The Mercenary for hire (Rewrite)
by sefinu
Summary: After an Unknown disease wipes out half of the earth, coming from Mother nature herself. Harper Haddock didn't care as long as he's breathing, staying alive and killing as a hired gun earning for a living. But what if he was hired to escort a trader back to his hometown which he never heard was converted to a safe zone. A/N: This is the rewritten version, more details at AN in chp1
1. Characters

Cast List.

*A few changes have been done to the original characters' name. The one on the left is their original name, while the one on the right is the current one I'm using here.

Hiccup - Harper Horrendous Haddock III

Astrid - Alek Hofferson

Fishlegs - Frank Ingerman

Tuffnut - Trevor Thorston

Ruffnut - Rebecca Thorston

Snotlout - Sam Jorgenson

Heather - Heather Gonouf

Camicazi- Camilia Bog

Eret - Eret Eretson

Stoic Haddock - Stephen Haddock

Valka Haddock - Vallory Haddock

Gobber - Gerald Belch

Spitelout - Seth Jorgenson

Viggo and Ryker - Viktor and Garret Grimborn

Dagur - Derrick "Dagur" Deranged

Alvin - Alvin the Treacherous

Drago - Drago Bludvist


	2. Chapter 1

**A/U: Here it is the rewrite, I'll leave the old story as is until I finish the whole rewrite. I'd like to thank my beta for fixing my errors**

 **Enjoy the first chapter.**

 **CHAPTER ONE: THE FALL OF MAN**

After civilization fell off after an unknown outbreak coming from nature itself, the disease has spread worldwide wiping out half the population. Most that have been affected by this disease have turned wild, feral even. This eventually lead others to form their own factions which lead to a beginning of a new civilization. Society collapsing was not far off in this situation, so once it did the men who were ambitious and hungry for power saw this as a gateway to create new orders.

They're all the same to Harper Haddock, at least that's what he thinks they are. Ever since he got separated from his parents back when he was still at the evacuation center, he's had to live on his own. He roamed around, city to city, road to road, surviving like everybody else. When he finally reached the tender age of seventeen he never knew that in the early hours of morning the first liquid that would've ever grazed his fingers on that day would be the blood of somebody else. His first murder.

It was early in the morning, the sky still a soft baby blue mixing with the wisps of the suns orange rays that brightened his path and helped him navigate through the city. He was out to find breakfast for himself, and perhaps other items that would help him in the long run. From the corner of his eye, he spotted something. A jar of peanut butter. Things like those were rare so without further hesitation he quickly made his way towards the jar that stood in the trash can. Before he could even get the full grasp of the item, a dirty hand took a hold of his wrist. Harper took a sharp breath, slowly averting his gaze towards the man who decided to ruin his peaceful breakfast. The man let out an animalistic growl before swinging his fist towards Harper's chin. Harper quickly dodged it however the man was definitely in for another round. Stepping back, Harper looked around and tried to find for something to defend himself with.

 **HARPERS POV**

Five years. Five years have passed after the outbreak. I've been in the wasteland for such a long time. Looking back to the past where everything was okay has turned into my coping mechanism. I reminisced the days back when I was still in high school, merely nothing but a man who were in people's shadows, scrawny and think when I look at the mirror, useless when it came to activities, let alone a hiccup. The list goes on. To sum things up, I was a nobody. My father, the mayor in Berk, always had high hopes for me no matter how disappointing I was. One of the dreams he hoped for me to turn into was to become a strong, buff man who'd protect the family from any harm. Using the muscles that covered my bones instead of the one that were covered by my skull. My mother who was a veterinary on the other hand just supported the dream. Sad to say, they got the complete opposite but, hey, at least I still fulfill the protecting one, right? Even if I don't actually have anyone to protect right now. Just...myself.

Roaming the streets of Chicago, I made my back to my hometown, Berk. This area was dubbed as "The Safe Zone" or what I personally like to call no man's land. It fit's better. Today was a bit of a special day compared to the others. Today is the day I'm gonna be hired for my expertise. A part of me is scared but a part of me is excited. I can't wait to experience something new.

Entering the run down bar, I took a seat at a nearby empty booth and waited. The sudden feeling of nervousness stirred within me when it's been minutes and the said man who'll hire me hasn't entered. All of a sudden, the loud sound of a door slamming into a wall caught my attention. I shifted my gaze towards the entrance, a man with a well trimmed beard landing in my line of sight.

"Any of you know Harper?" the man asks. In that moment I knew that this must be Johann. A dozen set of eyes landed on me once my name was uttered. I raised my hand, an emotionless look on my face as Johann noticed me from across the room. He made a beeline towards me and sat right across me.

"Hello," he starts off in a shaky tone, nervousness coating his voice as he opened his mouth and continued, "you must be the mercenary everyone speaks of highly of."

"That is I," I confirm, playing with a knife in hand. I noticed him visibly gulp at the act. Containing the chuckle that wanted to come out, I leaned forward and asked: "How can I be of service to you?"

"W-Well, y-y...you se-"

"Also, please stop tapping your fingers," I requested, getting irritated at the fact that his calloused hands have been going back and forth between the table and air.

"I'm not going to kill you," I coax, even though to most that may seem menacing, "that is, unless, someone pays me to do so."

"A-alright," he says, clearly still nervous. I stared at him with a blank face, silently urging him to proceed once I started to tap my fingers myself. "O-oh," he lets out, "well, you see. I need protection in order to enter Berk, and as you can tell trade routes have been marked by The Outcast to ambush traders such as myself."

I looked at him closely, my eyes focusing on his hands as they pulled the collar of his tunic long sleeve with a makeshift red vest. There's a sliver of hope in me that it was bulletproof, but part of me knows that there's no chance for it to be one. The wind suddenly grew stronger, reaching into where we're seated at. As it blew his hair, I realized two braids that hung on the side of beard, framing his facial figure and the bun that sat atop on his head. He continued to fiddle with the sleeves of his tunic, which lead my eyes to the strap of his satchel. His overall look was innocent, he presented himself as some sort of Viking with a wastelander type of vibe. At least, to me he did.

If things were still normal, he'd pass off as some typical dad who always prepares Sunday barbecue parties for the whole family. The prolonged silence eventually got awkward, so, I spoke up.

"I'll do it," I replied, making him sigh in relief.

"But," I dramatically added, raising my pointer finger in the air for emphasis, making him pause mid-sigh with a very worried look on his face, "I need something in return for payment."

"I'll do anything your heart desires," he offers, sounding very desperate.

"Since you're a trader and you go around all the country," I start, giving him a quick glance before staring off a distance and thinking of the perfect occupation for him, "I want you to be my informant. Tell me all the rumors, gossip, latest news and so on that could help me get information in and out of the wasteland, got it?" I finished, slamming my fist on the table to finish the proposal.

He looked at me skeptically before nodding, "It's a deal then. But, first, what should I call you?"

"You can call me Drake, but my friends call me Fury," I answer, a smirk making it's way on my face as he nods, a confused look still evident all over his face.

"Why Fury?" he asks, one eyebrow arched up as he stares at me curiously.

Slowly, I trailed my hand down into my pocket, clutching the handle of the knife. I got up and made my way to his side of the table before quickly placing the knife onto his throat, just right above where I can feel his heartbeats the most, "It's because I kill people the same way demons do in the night, an unholy offspring of death itself. Is that enough of an answer to you?"

Frantically nodding his head, he spoke in a very high pitched tone masked with fear: "Yes, loud and clear. Now would you k-k-kindly let-let go of me, sir?"

I hold him close to me, the tip of my knife now poking his skin, "Tomorrow, we head out of the safe zone. Got it?"

He nodded frantically. Once I let go of him, I sheathed my knife right after as I watch him run out of the place as far as his legs could take him. From the side of my eye, I realize that the people in the bar had their eyes on me yet again, when they realized that I was staring back they all continued minding their business, the back of their heads once again facing me.

After lounging around for a few more minutes, I decided of giving the black market a visit.

It wasn't that far off from here, so when I got there I felt anger rise up in me when I realized that my personal favorite was being harassed by a bunch of people. As much of a garbage place we're already in, there are still some people who think they rule the place. It's even more laughable that this happens on a daily. Rolling my eyes, I got my beretta and placed it behind me, making sure to conceal it.

Stopping by a stall of what I assume was once filled with instant noodles, I leaned closely and eavesdropped. The words "pay" and "protection fee" were the ones that caught my attention the most.

Wow, Odin's beard, these guys are beyond delusional. Keeping my head down and only showing my hair, I crept up a little closer, pretending to ignore the situation.

When I was close enough, I saw two guys looking not older than what I do. The first one had a very toned appearance, his body sculpted nearly to perfection. It was only his face that threw the look off. On the other hand, the second guy was pretty average, nearly similar to me only if he dropped a couple of pounds.

"Yeah, protection. I'm feeling pretty safe right now," Demsey retorts, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he glares at the two men angrily.

"Look," the buff guy started, "we're asking nicely."

"You give your share like everybody else or Dagur will do it and trust me you don't want Dagur to take it from you," the second guy finished for the first one. The both of them eyed Demsey down like a hungry dogs seeing steak for the first time in 24 hours.

Silence is the only thing they got from Demsey, that is until he let's out a chuckle that stretched the silence even further. This riled them up, I assume, because at that moment the buff guy rose his hand and threatened to punch Demsey.

I saw this as a cue to play my part. Sneaking up behind him, I kicked his kneecap as hard as I can, making sure to dislocate it. Letting out a shriek of pain, he fell onto the floor as he clutched his now twisted kneecap. Joining him down there as well, I put him on headlock and placed the barrel on his head.

His much average looking friend wasn't filled of confidence compared to him yet surprisingly he mustered up the most idiotic looking intimidating face ever, if that even existed. He tried to keep his glare up to par as he brought up a pistol. A laugh makes it's way out of my mouth as I analyzed the pistol's shitty state. Instead of being black, like most pistols, it was brown. Mostly due to the fact that it's poorly covered by tape and the other mechanics that were meant to keep it together were nearly falling apart and loose.

"Atatatata," I say, pretending to be threatened by the water gun in his hand, "you might want to think first pal, I might clean my clothes after I fix this leak I'm holding right now," I said, menacingly tapping my gun on the buff guy's head for emphasis.

"Well, it's about time Drake," Demsay says, wiping off the excess blood dripping from his nose as a grin makes it's way to his face, "after all, it's a free country. Care to do the honors?"

I rolled my eyes at him before aiming my hand at the second guy and shooting it. He dropped his pistol as he clutched his now bleeding hand.

"Berserkers are at it again," I comment, giving the guy I still have in headlock a quick blow on the head, making him lose consciousness, standing up, I continued, "why don't you boys fuck with somebody else. So far you are asking black market merchants for protection money for the mere fact that you are in a settlement where all bounty hunters, hired guns, and raiders come here to sell what they had got in the wasteland." I chuckled, clasping my hands together and dusting off whatever dirt that's on them, before dusting off my shirt as well. "Is Dagur really that desperate?"

"And what are you exactly, the Berkian Guard?" the Berserker mocked, his tone faltering a bit. It was evident that he was trying to scare me off but it didn't work. I made a scared face, only to laugh out loud as he scowled at me.

"Well I'm a bounty hunter, hired gun, a mercenary, or whatever comes out of your mind. As long as it involves me killing someone for money." I answered.

"Hell, I wanna fucking kill you for free. That speaks a lot," I say, cocking a gun towards his forehead, making him stiffen underneath it.

"Who are you?" he asked shakily, the fear within him increasing as he took each and every breathe, savoring the last one to the next because it could definitely be his last.

Demsey then came forward to answer that question. By now everyone formed a circle around us, coming over to see what the commotion was all about. The newfound attention made me uncomfortable, reminding me of high school, back when I'd get the similar amount of attention only to be the butt of jokes. The passion and loudness of Demsey's voice when he delivered his speech snapped me back into the present. I shook my head as I averted my gaze towards Demsey, who's even including actions to emphasize my place in this society.

"...they call him a legend, some say he's just a wanderer, say he's a hired gun, hell, some even say he's not a man at all! Rumors say that he's the unholy offspring of death itself! People tell that when they hear the whisper of the night, when it's just actually him readying himself to pounce and kill his next victim," Demsey said proudly, causing not only the berserker to quiver in fear but also the witnesses as well who watched and observed.

Thank you Demsey, I thought. Way to get my reputation into a much higher level. Sighing, I punched the last guy that was awake out of the two, watching everyone let out low oooo's and aaaaa's.

Demsey clasped his hands together, approaching me with a look of distaste and a hint of hurt on his face as he eyed the gun I was holding.

"Is that the gun you bought from me?" he asks, arching a brow as I let out a chuckle in return for a response. Most of the "merchandise" I'd purchase from him would always end up like the others: broken. It was always the case for me since I'm under fire all the time. The gun would obviously be used, but once it's far too broken to even be held by my hand, I move on to ordinary daily equipment's, using them as a weapon of my own. At one point, I even had to use a spoon just to defend myself from this raider. I remember the memory very visibly in my mind, the cold hard metal being shoved deep down his throat, causing him to choke. Unfortunately, he didn't die due to that which lead me to banging his head against the ceramic wall.

"No," I finally answered, making him sigh in relief. I walked over towards his side, grabbing a pistol from the ground and tossing it towards him. "Don't worry," I continued, "I learnt my lesson when it came to breaking your items, you Scandavian fuck." I paused and waited for a reaction from him. All I got was a scoff. Satisfied, I continued.

"Anyways, here's the items you told me to get you, I found majority of them in a rotting corpse," I say, tossing my satchel towards him. He gracefully caught it, giving me a quick wink with a thank you before opening the bag to take a quick peek.

Approaching him and peeking along, I comment, "I don't want to ask why you want...that," I gesture towards the odd items in the bag. He just shushed me, walking towards the exit before pausing exactly a few inches near the way out.

"This'll do," he says, shaking the bag up in the air, "thanks Harper, really appreciate your help. What about you? Do you have any requests in mind?"

"Glad you asked. Currently, I'm in need of a rifle. One that can at at least reach two hundred to three hundred meters, needs to be smooth, especially midway before I could hit my target. Also, I want it to be as light as feather. Lastly, ammunition has to be something I can find in the wasteland as I'm on-the-go," I answered calmly, hoping to have gotten the point across. Demsey rubbed his chin, deep in thought and I assume must be visualizing the gun in mind.

Looking at me with a questioning look followed with a shrug, he then eyed the store, scanning the items at the back before making his way there. He stayed there for roughly thirty minutes. The sound of metal hitting metal and out equipments clanging together bounced off the walls as he focused on creating my desired gun.

When I finally saw his head emerging out of the aisles, I got out of my previous seated position and glanced the gun in Demsey's hands.

Carefully taking the gun from his hands, I eyed the Springfield M1903. The body was a midnight black, with specks of dust here and there. Brushing that of, I tilted the gun, checking the custom made barrel it had fitted with a custom made suppressor that looked like it was a shotgun type. The butt of the rifle was completely different, it had the butt of a Mosin Nagant, an old rifle. It had pockets around it to hold the cartridge filled magazines. Shifting my gaze to the bottom part, I realized that it was not a rifle based reload but rather a magazine one. Pulling out the magazine, I checked the 7.62x39 cartridges, remembering briefly that this is what the Chinese and Russians would often use in their AK's. Lastly, the scope was just any standard scope, only difference for this one was the fact that it was covered in cloth.

"Yeaaah.." I trail off, giving Demsey a hesitant look as I asked him if he was sure about the suppressors being able to muffle the noise since the suppressor for this one was for a shotgun.

A smile is what I got in response to him, "Harper, you always use my guns. What's the difference with this?" I inhaled, thinking about what he just said.

"Trust me," he continues, "I fully remade that suppressor for it to fit nicely with the barrel itself. Can you tell it's light?"

I weighed it out with my hand, holding it first with my two hands before decreasing it to one. It's true, the gun was pretty light. Even lighter than my old rifle. "What material did you use to make this? It feels lighter and looks much stronger."

"Well," he starts, a smug look on his face at the praise and validation he just got from one of his creations, "that's a family secret. I'll spill it to you one day if find time for yourself to help me with the shop."

He gives me a heartwarming smile to which I reciprocated back. Grabbing the rifle, along with the ammunition, I bid my goodbyes and so did he. Along the way, I headed to the inn where I normally crashed in. It's not the comfiest inn out there, but I really needed and am desperate to get a good night's rest before escorting Johann to Berk.

I sighed, time to go home.


	3. Chapter 2

_**A/U: So here it is, now replying to ze comments:  
**_

 _ **DBD Turdukken X: I don't know that much of calibers, yet but I'll keep this noted. Thank you for the comment.**_

 _ **Enough about this shiet, enjoy : )**_

 _ **CHAPTER TWO:**_ **A LONG WAY FROM HOME**

Zooming through the highways of California were two pickup trucks. One was a caravan truck that belonged to Johann, alongside it was his escort's. Compared to his truck, his escort's truck had a few moderations added to it, and one of it being metal sheets welded into the hood, rims, back and front of the truck itself. Additionally, it also had fences welded into the windows, in hopes of making it bulletproof.

As disoriented as the displayed part may seem, the back part of it is what makes it very interesting. It had a .50 caliber on a rotating platform armored to the boot, keeping the gunner safe.

In Johann's caravan, at the very front seat, sat Harper who was in deep thought.

"Why do they even need my help if they have a chance against the outcast?" he whispers under his breath, his chin gently placed onto the back of his hand as he faced the covered window, trying to imagine right now what California would look like in such a disoriented state.

"I mean, they literally have all the firepower they need in order to wipe out any Outcast that could threaten them along the way," he continues, still muttering incoherent words underneath his breath. Good thing the caravan was a bit rickety and old, making it cause lot's of noises as it drove along the way because surely without that Johann would've heard those and things may not end well.

Harper sat a seat behind Johann. Throughout the whole time, aside from over analyzing everything, he's also been eyeing his rifle. Giving it glances here and there. Of course, there came a time where he got tired of it so he moved to the seat where Johann sat. Unlike his, Johann's window didn't have any barricades or such to it, so from there Harper glanced at the abandoned, rotting Los Angeles and what's left to it. There were bodies everywhere, decomposing, decomposed, skeletons, you name it.

The whole city was covered with grass and trees, with vines creeping up the walls that remained standing, the leaves covering the vast majority of what's left of the cement. One thing that stood out ever since the bombings from the military were the holes in the ground, ranging from long to short, shallow to deep, they were all filled with water that served as habitat for whatever living being that may need it.

As in-habitable the places may seem, the unfortunate ones dubbed as "Freak's" by the military habitated it. They still acted like people, but it was as if they have a hive or one mind.

It was strange at first, the infected showed simple signs such as a normal fever and severe coughs. Then their skins started to turn muddy green resembling a muddy green of a swamp, showing uneven shades of green pigmenting the skin day by day. This is followed by different kinds of plants growing all around their skin. Few weeks later, they grow mad, starting to kill anyone around them, either that or the other victims were forced to ingest some sort of parasite or seed they called "Mother's Gift." Once the victim digests the seed it's all over, FEMA announced that it took at least fifteen seconds before the they turn into a feral, which populated most of the country.

It didn't take long for them to fully overrun the city and claim it as theirs, this left the rest of humanity to fend against them.

Harper was pulled out from his string of thoughts as a movement ahead caught his attention. He pushed Johann lightly with hopes that he's noticed the movement as well. Disappointment washed over through him though when all Johann ever replied to him was a questioning look.

"Is there something wrong?" Johann asks, concern washing over his face as he stares at Harper hardly.

"Yeah. Stop the caravan and make sure you turn off the engines," Harper orders. Johann quickly got his radio and ordered the driver to stop. The vehicle halted, silence blanketing the whole space before it was interrupted by the loud buzzing of Johann's radio. The driver was wondering why they were stopping.

Without saying anything further, Harper got out, strapping his rifle around him and walking out slowly, making sure to not make any noises. The wind was pretty strong, blowing his cloak to the side and making his hair an exploding mess. Taking cover at a nearby police cruiser, he fixed himself before taking a peak and trying to see anything that would be significant to him.

Looking around, all his eyes saw were shopping districts, majority being closed and boarded up. He took his scope and glanced around using his scope, trying to see anyone. So far he only saw Freaks. They still had clothes on so his guess is that they're still fresh. He makes a mental note to watch out for them because the last thing he wants tonight is to become green or somebody's dinner.

Harper inched closer to the right, trying to get a better view. A Feral, another type of Freak, fell into his line of vision. It's brown skin had rough edges around it, forming some kind of bump. Looking carefully, he came to a conclusion that it was an armored Feral. Harper then remembered that it was a mutation caused by the virus since he himself remembers vividly encountering several others like these before. Compared to the normal Freaks, these were a bit harder to kill since their skin are hard, resembling the bark of a tree due to said mutation. A knife or pistol wouldn't necessarily suffice, it could but it'd just take up both your energy and time.

Harper counted roughly six freaks roaming around, most of them talking to themselves or nature, making sure to touch and feel every plant, tree, vine, and nature related things along the way.

Looking through the scope, Harper took a shark intake of breath. His hand was just right above the trigger, waiting for the right time to aim the Barker that fell into his line of vision. Being cautious is one thing he wanted to do, especially in this situation considering the heavy wind coming from the right.

A few moments later, he pulled the trigger. The loud bang echoed throughout the field, scaring off a couple of raven's on the way. Harper waited for a few moments before grasping the bolt and gliding it again, earning him a satisfying shriek followed by a loud thud from the distance. Pushing the bolt back, he glided it back into position before rotating it and and locking the bolt handle in. Shot after shot fired through the air, all followed by loud shrieks filled with pain. Soon enough, all Harper could see through his scope were dead Feral's laying on their own puddle of blood with chunks of green and brown around it.

The moment he's finished what he's done, he walked back into the caravan, noticing some of Johann's men admiring him in awe, even catching one of them checking through his binoculars the spot where dead Feral's lay.

When Johann finally saw Harper seated peacefully at his seat, he signaled the driver to drive through his speaker. The car ride was mostly quiet, with Johann looking like he has a thousand questions to ask yet has no amount of courage to do so. Harper noticed this and decided to do the man a favor by doing the initiative of asking. 

"I suppose you want to ask some questions, right, trader?" Harper asks, a smirk evident on his lips as he leans back on his seat, watching Johann. The question itself startled Johann, but seeing this as a one in a lifetime opportunity in getting able to know more about the man in front of him, he decided to think of a question. Threading around his words, he tried to articulate one that wouldn't strike a nerve.

"Well," he started off, testing the waters. He paused for a moment, eyeing Harper who looked calm as ever. The silence stretched, causing Harper to get a bit impatient. He stared at Johann with a questioning look, arching one eyebrow and beckoning him to continue his question.

"What got you into this...sort of business, Mister Drake?" Johann asks, gesturing towards the gun and such that Harper held.

Harper chuckled, amused at how formal Johann is at times, "Are you always this formal, Johann? Or should I say, trader Johann?" he says the sentence in a deep voice that resembled Johann's as a form of mockery.

"I myself have come from a family that has taught me manners, etiquette and such therefore yes it would actually be quite pleasing to be addressed as trader Johann, especially from you," Johann answers, not a hint of displeasure or whatnot to be seen on his face, causing Harper to let out a nervous chuckle.

Harper couldn't help but smile under his mask, half thanking it for being there to censor his facial expressions half of the time, "Interesting. My father himself has integrated some values into me. He was a person worth looking up to, being a mayor of the town and all, having to organize it and stuff. My mother herself has taught me some things as well, but most of the time she had she spent it around animals. She was just..a doctor in training, so….yeah."

Johann stayed quiet, only blinking but very rapidly before letting out a low, " _okaaaay_."

"I ask this with no disrespect at all, but, what does this have to do with your job description?" Johann asks, confusion evident in his voice and facial expression as Harper's once joyous state shifts into one of annoyance.

"Well…" he trails off, "What the fuck do you expect me to tell you? There's no shit to say. There's no sob story. It just aaaallll began with me killing one person and in that moment I thought, "Oh, hey! Maybe I could make a living out of this." And so, I did!" he screams, letting out a scoff to finish his sentence.

Johann panicked, his eyes wide and all as he mumbles out, "Forget I asked."

A sigh slips out of Harper's lips once he realizes the effect of his words on Johann. In a much calmer tone, he spoke, "Look, I apologize for that. There are just..some things I'd rather keep burried rather than spend the time to dig out," he pauses and waits for a reaction, only to receive silence from Johann, "plus," he adds on, "you're my cli-ent," he emphasizes, "what we're doing here is busi-ness," he gestures between them, "and I don't think talking about our backstories were part of the agreement or contract, so don't ever bring them up ever again, got it?"

"Yes," Johann squeaks, "loud and clear."

When the caravan went to a halt, Harper sighs in relief while relishing the few moments of silence that covered up the inside of the tiny vehicle. If anything, he's had enough of Johann's stories or what Johann himself would call his "Epic Tales." Most of them were about him being outside the capitol, even mentioning that throughout his journeys beyond the borders he's run into some guy who turned out to be his long lost cousin.

Johann throughout the quick halt observed his surroundings, drinking in the aftermath of the virus. There were overruned red cross stations, FEMA outposts left to rot, with plants growing on the barricades, alongside with the caracasses of the dead FEMA doctors. Most of the roads were blocked by scattered cars that were hastily evacuated from by people when they first heard of the disease alongside the bombings of the city. This has created a roadblock.

Shifting his gaze towards Harper, he watched him play with his knife, performing tricks with it. That being a bit too much for his faint heart, his gaze decided to travel up to his face. Johann assumed that the man was in his early twenties, with the long auburn hair, piercing green eyes, and smooth skin complexion. He was fairly thin, but Johann sensed that he must be hiding something underneath his poncho.

"Johann, we're almost there to Berk. Jeremiah saw an Outcast checkpoint ahead though so we have to watch out for that. Should we just go and push through it? I'm confident our armor can withstand it," one of the escorts reported through the radio. Harper overheard what the man just said, and Johann was aware of it as well.

"Stop the caravan and don't drive unless I say so," Harper orders, "Once I shoot this flare," Harper proposes, pulling out a red flare gun from his back, "it's clear to ram through the checkpoint."

"Noted, noted, not-"

"But, but," Harper continues, "make sure to stop so that I have time to get in. Got it?"

"Yes, sir. Of course. We will be waiting on your signal," Johann responded before radioing the caravan to stop before repeating what Harper has told him to the driver.

Strapping his rifle, Harper got out of the vehicle only to backtrack and go back inside again to get his Beretta. Once he's sure of his valuables, he calmly got out and tried to find a hill for him to snipe at. Finding the perfect spot, he situated himself and peeked through the scope, trying to spot for onlooking enemies.

A pickup truck with a mounted .50 caliber and a shield facing the road was the first thing that fell into his line of sight. Harper sighed, thinking that this was going to be more of a challenge taking down than he thought. Looking further, he spotted an Outcast walking on the road, alone, behind him was a makeshift tower of cars stacked upon other cars stacked on an old donut shop. He then saw yet again another Outcast holding a Benelli pump action shotgun on his right and a FN Scar on his left.

"These guys must have raided an evacuation zone since those are mostly military grade," Harper mutters, voicing out his observations as he continued to look around.

The checkpoint itself was easy to breakthrough since the only thing it was made of that's keeping it together were old scrap of poorly arranged galvanized metals, Harper then shifted his gaze, seeing that there, from the right stood an office building with silhouettes of what he assumes to be Outcasts. From what he's seeing, most of them carried pistols and melee weapons, making them an easy target, especially for him.

Slinging his rifle, Harper got up and walked back to Johann's caravan. He opened the door, only to get startled and let out a sound of disgust when he walks in on Johann clipping his nose hair.

"Yeah, uh, please don't do that. Also, here, take my rifle," Harper says in a cold tone, handing Johann his rifle before slamming the door shut, trying to get the imagery of Johann's previous acts out of his head.

He pulled out his Beretta, clipping the silencer and twisting on the barrel till it was locked in position. After that, he pulled out another handgun but this time it was a revolver, the exact same gun he used with Demsey's problem. He checked how much ammunition was left inside before slamming the clip shut and placing the gun on the back of his pants.

Once the revolver was secured, he headed for the checkpoint. Harper crept carefully towards it, making sure to hug the walls of the alleyways he'd pass by, trying not to get caught. As he walked through, conversations from muffled voices traveled from wall to wall, most of it coming from Outcasts reminiscing the times they escaped from prison.

When Harper reached the office building, he pulled out the knife from his chest and opened the door slowly, trying not to make a single sound while doing so. The reception is what first greeted him when he got inside, along the way, he heard a series of voices coming from the employee bathroom, catching his attention. Carefully, he walked in there instead, witnessing two Outcasts doing their business.

Harper quietly made his way towards the nearest Outcast, making sure to make each footstep as light as feather to not create any sudden noise. He crept up behind his victim, grabbing him by the mouth and nearly shoving his whole hand in it. This caused the Outcast to let out audible muffled yells, leading Harper to slashing his throat.

The other outcast stood there stunned, watching his blood ooze out of his friends neck. His friend pulled out a gun but before he could even fire it, it was kicked out of his grasp. The outcast was left with no choice but to tackle Harper. He aimed for his neck, wrapping his arms around it as Harper writhed under his grasp. Unfortunately, the man was too strong for Harper so when he slowly started to lose consciousness Harper instead aimed for his eyes. He pushed both thumbs towards the Outcast's eyes, making sure to claw them out. Screaming in pain, the outcast got off of him and kneeled on the floor in pain while clutching his face.

Gaining the upper hand, Harper kicked the man to the side of the room where his friend laid before pushing his knife into the Outcast's skull, making him let out one last scream before going limp.

Harper lets out a sigh of relief, collapsing next to the two dead Outcasts. He decided to use this as a time to regain strength and get his breathing pattern a bit back to normal since he was absolutely out of breath. A groan slips pass his lips when he realized that his short serene moment was interrupted by loud people screaming from behind the door, telling other people to check in on the bathroom. He got up, pulling out his beretta before giving the two dead bodies a quick glance, wondering to himself why he didn't just shoot them instantly and make life easier.


	4. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER THREE:**_ **THIS BETTER BE WORTH IT**

"Why did the gods put me here?" Harper questions, groaning as he clutches his beretta and knife. He stood nearby a door, ready to attack the next poor customer that's about to get the best bashing on their head.

"Tommy, Brett," an Outcasts voice echoes, catching Harper's attention, "You okay? You shouldn't be doing the shit that you did in prison right here."

Harper pales in fear as the effect of what the Outcast has just said sunk into him. Now, Harper is working on to forget the words that he's just heard.

Memories of how he'd block any doors at his school just to protect himself from Sam and his jocks flashed right before his eyes, making him anxious. He remembered exactly how they'd harass him everywhere every chance they'd get, whether it'd be at the toilet, hallways, even at the library, there place where you're required to be quiet the most. There even came a time where the librarian didn't help him and instead just laughed at him as Sam told her of the time he ordered the twins to super glue on his face a children's book about dragons while he was passed out.

Shaking his head to rid the terrible memories of the past, Harper sharpened his attention and focused on aiming his pistol towards the entrance. As the door breaks open, Harper watches the first Outcast run in and stare at his dead colleagues, shock and anger both playing out in his eyes and facial expression. Once another one of his colleagues came running in, Harper ran towards him, lodging his knife into his throat before using all of his strength to spin both of them around, using the now bleeding Outcast as a shield.

The first Outcast that came running in finally collected himself, turning around only to be mortified yet again to see one of his colleagues gurgling and groaning in pain. Pulling out his pistol, he rapidly shot the limp body in front of him in hopes of the bullet to pass through and shoot Harper instead.

Harper on the other hand struggled as he moved the body, trying to pull it up as he moved forward. Harper watched the Outcast continuously attempt to shoot him, watching him press the trigger multiple times until all that he could hear were clicks. The Outcast stared at the gun questioningly, pressing the trigger multiple times only to yelp in pain when he feels a heavy weight falling onto him.

Profanities echoed off the walls as the Outcast tried to reach for a pistol in his dead colleagues body while simultaneously struggling to get the body off of him. Harper used his busy state as a leverage to aim the pistol on his forehead before pulling the trigger, making blood splatter all over the place and ooze out of his wound.

Looking around, he heard footsteps getting closer to the bathroom. As quick as he could, he got a handgun from one of the dead bodies followed by a crowbar before running out of the toilet and sliding into one of the office cubicles.

Peeking from the tiny space, he checked to see five outcasts coming down the stairs, most of them checking the bathrooms. It took some time before one of them emerged out of it, calling to one of the people to get some guy named Savage.

Wasting no more time, Harper pulled out his handgun and took out the magazine, counting the bullets. "Fuck me," he exclaims, realizing that he doesn't have enough, "I'll just have to take my shots then."

"Savage, four men are dead. One of them got their eyeballs brutally pushed in," one of them says as they all walked down the stairs.

"Must be some Freak's nearby," the same man suggests to the others.

Harper looked at the man holding an AK-47, scanning his attire. He wore a grey washed up jacket, the zipper closing halfway through, displaying a bloodied white shirt underneath. Additionally, it also has armored shoulder pads on each side. His outfit was paired with orange sweatpants that were held in place by a belt. Squinting his eyes, he looks closer and sees a bone club, a pistol holster, and the front of a skull on it.

Harper prayed that it was a toy skull from the rundown Walmart and not a real one.

"No! You moron," the man with the peculiar belt screams, pulling out the man who suggested ideas a while ago close to him, "a Freak would get the chance to turn them into one of theirs." He stared angrily at the man before throwing him aside and announcing out loud, "Where are you hiding? Just come out and we won't use you as our playing thing or in other words, Alvin's possession!" he says, chuckling as he rubs his hands together.

"Spread out, check the cubicles, under the table. Hell even in the cabinets! There's someone here and make sure he's alive we'll make sure when we bring him back to Alvin. We can also use him as a bait to lure to Freaks," Savage orders, going back up while watching his men roam and scatter around.

Hooking the crowbar behind on his bag, Harper looked around before going out of the cubicle, pushing the first Outcast nearby at the wall, stunning him and shooting him at the head while it was still distracted.

The Outcast tried to stand up only to fall back down as blood oozed out of his wounds.

"There he is!" one of them yelled, pointing at Harper, taking he the shot to capture him. He ran to another cubicle in order to dodge the bullets that whistled pass him. Sliding down and taking cover, he shot back at the Outcasts, making sure to hit at least one of them. Hearing a loud scream, he peeked from the side and saw an Outcast clutching his bleeding chest, applying pressure to the wound.

When the commotion died down a bit, Harper slowly got out of the cubicle only to stop in his tracks when he heard a battle cry from behind him. He turned around, aiming his gun at the Outcast who was carrying a pistol only to mutter profanity under his breath when his gun clicked.

Wasting no time, Harper threw his gun at the Outcast. The gun landed on his head, stunning him and making him clutch his forehead in pain. In his distracted state, Harper got a crowbar and swung it at the Outcast, knocking him out. He then speared it at him, watching his skin rip open as blood surfaced on the wound.

As he was about to get up and flee somewhere else, he felt a jolt of pain come up from his back. This was then followed by another jolt of pain. He turned around, only for his eyes to widen in shock as he saw another upcoming hit. Dodging it, he thanked Thor for the timing as he clutched his back. Facing back up front, he came face to face to an angry Outcast clutching a baseball bat while running towards him.

He dodges the hit and gives the Outcast one kick before hugging his torso, tackling him. Grabbing the head of the Outcast and pushing it down the pavement, he clutched his chin to keep him in place before tilting his head a bit to the side, exposing to Harper his temple. Harper plunges his knife into this, feeling the Outcast squirm underneath his grasp and let out screams before going limp.

Letting out a heavy exhale, Harper let's go of the man. The Outcast stared back at Harper only this time with dead lifeless eyes as his mouth slowly opened and blood dripped out of the side of it, alongside his temple that bled as well through the tiny gap the knife shoved in it would allow.

"This shit," Harper mumbles under his breath, pulling the knife out of the dead man's forehead. He was pushed back, causing him to cough and regain some air, "better be worth it."

Harper made his way to the Outcast who was still clutching his chest, watching crawl to a much safer place. His bloodied hands left a mark around the place, making him easy to locate. Keeping a cold gaze, Harper followed suit before giving him a quick kick on the head, knocking him out instantly.

Pulling out the revolver, Harper walked out slowly, looking above the staircase for any Outcast peaking. When he sees that it's clear, he ran, hugging the wall within each step. When he was about to kick the door open, he was only met by gun fire. He quickly covered his face with his forearm as the impact from the gun fire started to created dust.

"This is your loss you dumb shit! You're going to regret ever coming for the Outcast, you hear me?! Do you know who you're messing with?! Alvin the Treacherous! Do you know what he's capable of?" A voice yelled out.

By the sound of it, Harper got the idea that it was Savage shooting. Pulling out a smoke grenade, he pulled the pin and shook the canister before throwing it in the room, slowly watching fog cloud his vision. He ran to the side as Savage fired blindly at the smoke. As Harper ran, he saw an exit sign glowing along the way. Running to the door, he opened it and quickly slammed it shut before running down the stairs and towards the gunner of the .50 cal.

Harper shot him at the head before jumping on the turret and spinning the gun around, shooting at the makeshift tower. The Outcast fired back only for all the bullet's they shot to ricochet back and bounce everywhere. Harper opened fire to the tower, watching one of the men to the side and hit the pavement before the tower collapsed for good.

Back at the convoy, Jeremiah held a pair of binoculars closely as he witnesses the makeshift tower collapse to the ground. "Johann, Fury needs help. We can ram through the gate and help him," he suggests.

Johann raised his hand up, disagreeing with what his companion has just suggested, "I think Mister Drake can handle himself. We are waiting for his signal. Once you see him light up a flare, we are riding out." Jeremiah nodded at what he said, taking his binoculars close again as he continues to watch the scene unwrap before him.

"Oh you got to be joking!" Harper angrily mutters, groaning in annoyance as he felt the turret jam. He looked around only to see Outcast's clutching assault rifles and guns close to them, taking this as a sign to get down and got behind the truck.

He pulls out his flare and slid it down the pavement as it popped. As smoke and light came out, Harper threw it on an ambulance high enough for any of Johann and his crew to spot.

Unluckily, an Outcast spotted it. As the guy approaches him, Harper gives him a quick hard punch on the face, catching the guy mid-fall. He takes his rifle of the now deceased man and fires it at the truck continuously.

The sound of a truck's engine from a distance caught his attention. The trucks smashed through the walls, revealing him a Johann who peeked through the window looking around the fields. The lead truck fired from the turret, killing the Outcasts who were bothering Harper. He smiled and slung his rifle before running back to the caravan.

Johann quickly opened the door, only for Harper to yell at him to drive faster. The vehicle picked up it's pace as gunshots erupted and flew right behind them, but just as quickly as they came, that's also how quick the place grew silent as quietness crept in.

Harper struggled breathing, his throat dry after the exhaustion he just went through. Pulling out his canteen, he took big gulps not caring that the water was spilling all over the place. He let's out a heavy exhale after drinking, sealing the canteen shut and placing it back on his side as he leaned on the door and made eye contact with Johann.

Johann cleared his throat, "Mind telling me what you did back there?"

Harper's gaze turned stone cold as he stared Johann hardly, making Johann gulp. His eyes then slowly transitioned into a much kinder look matched with a playful smile before he asks, "do you want the adult's version or the children's version?" Sarcasm dripped in his tone as he pulled out his knife that was coated in both dry and just fresh blood. Johann's gaze shifted between the knife and Harper, making him gulp yet again in fear.

"I would rather choose option two, Mister Drake," Johann decides, ending his answer with a nervous smile.

"Well, I came in, gave people a piece of my mind, but they couldn't handle it so they collapsed. They both died in the bathroom before two of their friends came in meeting the same faith. I did the same thing with five other Outcasts before meeting Savage. I ran out into the emergency exit right after, bribing the gunner to go fuck himself, before shooting potatoes at the Outcast in the tower until you came in." Harper said in a sarcastic tone, playing with the still fresh blood on his knife with his thumb. Johann nodded, not really knowing what to say but deep down he was fairly amused.

His radio buzzed, catching both of their attentions. "Johann, we're approaching Berk. Better get ready with that welcome greeting."

Johann sighed, giving Harper a look only to catch him dazed and staring off into the distance.

 _Berk, it hasn't changed since. Well, except for the tall walls all around the town itself. I wonder how dad got those up, Gobber must have something to do with it._ Harper thought to himself as he eyes what's upfront. Sighing, he puts on his goggles, adjusting them to comfort before fixing his half-mask around his face as they entered the safe zone.


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR** : **WELCOME TO THE SAFE ZONE**

Outside the wasteland is just a mess. California just wasn't the same place you'd say you could enjoy or anymore. What was once a place that was beautifully showered with the suns rays accompanied by the soft breeze matching the deep blue sea and the beach are now replaced with debris of buildings scattered all over the place accompanied by garbage bags that piled amongst each other creating a very appetizing garbage-salad for flies and other creatures who are willing to dig through it. The streets were still intact, it's just that within the cracks of the pavements and sidewalks grew plants which made it hard for most people to walk on and maneuver through. Some buildings still stood strong, maybe even exceeding 12 foot or so, but, similar to the sidewalks, plants also grew through it's cracks, habitating the place and such.

From the looks of it, freaks roamed the city as well. Alongside that, raiders have plundered settlements while others found themselves busy naming factions they've made for themselves. Ever since the so called evacuation zone were abandoned by the national guards after being overran, this has left everybody to claim and volunteer themselves as political figure's and the higher up's possible.

Scientists and Doctors finding the cure on the first day of the outbreak failed and instead made the rioters and lotters get out of the city, grabbing anything they can while the police and army officials were busy trying to contain the virus. Instead of telling the truth or spreading the news to the other states, the government decided to pay media and plead to them not to spread the news in order to avoid mass panic.

Harper couldn't get around his head why most of the army and cops would come to Berk, considering it's very far from the city. It still pains him that day to remember being there along with the rest of the Berkians, running out and getting to the nearest evacuation center only to be separated from his parents and friends, leaving for him to fend off against the world overall.

As they entered Berk, he scans the place around, eyeing the entrance that leads to the town square. Everyone seems to be living a normal life, as if the apocalypse never happened. While they're here, seeming to be chilling and all, he was out at the wasteland, killing, getting drunk, getting laid by some broad who was in desperate need of a place to stay in.

"Mister Drake," Johann's voice slices through his moment of silence and reminiscing of things, snapping him back to reality, we're here in Berk." He lets out a chuckle, realizing how transfixed he was to the point of not realizing that the caravan stopped.

Harper gathered whatever stuff he had in, ready to get out of the car only to be stopped by Johann who blocked his way.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!," Johann says, stopping Harper in his tracks before raising up a satchel to his eye level, presenting it to Harper, "take this as a token for, you know, accepting the job. You'll get your rumors as we meet outside the wasteland."

Harper shook his head, gently pushing the satchel away from him. "I- I can't take this. A deal is a deal. I don't- I don't need this," he stammers, pushing the gift further away even more as Johann persisted in the same amount Harper rejects.

Harper exclaims in surprise when he feels Johann gently push him down back to his seat, "Nonsense, Mister Drake! As a token for helping me out, most mercenaries would take my caravan overall. But you, you did the job, keeping all of us safe enough to live and see another day." Before he could deny the offer, Johann immediately dropped the satchel on Harper's lap and quickly made an exit out of the van.

Harper eyed the satchel on his lap, deciding to open it and see what's inside. It contained three cans of sardines, one can of soup, one can of corned beef, and two bottles of water with some medical supplies on the side. Feeling gratitude, he smiles before slinging the bag, fixing his mask on his face, adjusting it and making sure it was comfortable enough before getting out of the truck.

Following suit, Harper opens the door, hearing a crowd erupt in chatter behind him. He looked back to see Johann's guards acting as a wall behind the cargo. Walking up to them, he reaches Johann greeting the townsfolk, most of them around his age. As Harper was about to walk away, he heard Johann call his name.

"Mister Drake! Come, I must introduce you to the people of Berk," Johann happily states, a smile plastered all over his face which Harper hoped to wipe out once he denies. Walking away, Harper was only pulled back again by Johann as Johann introduced Harper to the people upfront.

"Nonsense," Johann whispers to Harper before adjusting his voice and speaking out loudly, "People of Berk, this is the man who helped me in my journey. Without him, I wouldn't even have managed to come here to Berk safe and alive, nor be able to live to see another day for that matter."

Harper's eyes roamed around the people of Berk that stood in front of him, eyeing people to people while recognizing some faces. He could recognize some of his batchmates, schoolmates, and teachers as well. Suddenly, he felt his throat go dry and and his surroundings turn blurry so he shifts his gaze towards the staircase that lead to the great hall, a building that was built under a mountain, but that didn't help either and only increased the rush of anxiety he was feeling at the moment. Memories of him presenting one of his inventions in what most would call the Great Hall brought a smile to his face, only to be wiped out by the sudden turn of events, one of them being his invention blowing up which received him a public scolding from Stephen that not only hurted him, but also humiliated him in public.

You see, Berk was founded by Northmen long before Columbus sailed to America. The Great Hall has been used by the British as various things, one being a storehouse during their occupation, two as a facility to take in recruits during and from World War II, and three as a C.I.A base of operations during the cold war. It has been there for countless of generations, alongside Berk. Despite being colonized by the British and the Americans, there still remained Viking descendants on that area who still had strong belief and clung to Scandinavian religion.

That's why Harper and Demsey got along. They both share something in common and that is being Scandinavian.

Exhausted wasn't even enough of a word to describe how tired Harper is. All he wanted to do was to find a place to get the amount of rest he needed. As he was about to leave, he hears a familiar voice call for him, making him wince a bit. He turns around, facing the crowd that's now making way for a big tall man who walked towards upfront, his stance proud. His father. Alongside his father were two men, _one being Seth, his father's brother in law_ and the other being Gerald, his father's friend. Harper stared at his father with wide eyes, his hands started to feel clammy and his throat restricting as the silence stretched awkwardly between the two of them.

A smile ghosts on Harper's lips as he eyes his father from head to toe, realizing that not much has changed. His dark red hair was, as always, tied up into a bun while the rest were left to fly away and frame his face. There were the same tiny braids on his beard that seemed to have grown longer over the time. Everything was still the same about him, looks, attitude, even clothes. Except for the fact that his belt now has holsters for a gun and a knife.

"Johann, great to see you making it back here safe. How's the wasteland so far?" Stephen asks, being the first to break the lingering silence. His hand aggressively slapped Johann's back making Johann let out a yelp as he composed himself before speaking.

"Ah, the wasteland," Johann says in a dreamy tone, causing Stephen to look at him questioningly. "It's relaxing yet fascinating to hear the gentle whispers of the breeze into your ear as it gently blows into your face compared to the constant screaming gunshots that would echo and bounce off the streets," he answers, making hand gestures as people stared at him, saying nothing, only blinking. Clearing the throat, he gestures to his men who were busy unloading the items before explaining, "I've come from afar, travelling many _different_ places, to bring back to you many varieties of supplies that would surely help you last within months, perhaps ranging between roughly four to five, depending on the rationing, _yes_."

"Ah, good man. Seth, hand in Johann's payment, will you?" Stephen orders, giving Johann yet again another hard pat on the back, startling Johann completely.

Seth gives Stephen a quick nod before handing Johann a duffle bag. Johann opened the bag immediately, smiling as he eyes it's contents. "This will do," he comments, closing the bag as he faces the crowd, "and as for you people, I'm going to be opening my truck for business so you may come in and trade something of your own, only if you want. Same goes for you too, Mister Haddock," Johann proposes, making his way back to the cargo and opening the door for people who already formed a line, most of them holding items.

Harper was busy inspecting his rifle, checking to see if Johann has kept it safe. Johann's loud voice calling him cutting through the crowd snapped him out of his inspection. He looked behind him to see Johann motioning for him to come over. With a sigh, he slung his rifle and made his way back to Johann where he faced his father and his other two companions.

"This man protected the caravan along our way here," Johann boasts to Stephen, Gerald, and Seth, gesturing to Harper as he stared at him with so much gratitude and adoration making Harper roll his eyes, "without him I wouldn't have made it safe, nor alive, back here."

"And who is this man?" Seth interjects, eyeing the man curiously.

"Why! I thought you'd never ask! Gentlemen, this is Fury, a mercenary I hired for this job. He is actually great in doing his tasks, doing it with no question whatsoever. Highly efficient with any gun and any weapon even."

By now the three men scrutinized Harper while Harper on the other hand just kept his cool, silently praying to Odin that his patience for both his father and Johann won't burst.

Before Stephen could even speak, he was cut off by a group of men approaching him.

"Chief, we got the things we need in order to survive for a month. Most of it could last but we got in trouble with the Outcast," one of them with black hair and worn out clothing says.

"Trevor got hit but it's not too severe," a blonde adds on.

"Hey, I got a scar out of it!" Trevor proudly says out loud before high fiving his twin sister, the others merely groaning in frustration at his reaction.

Harper stared at the twin, then looked to the girl beside them, recognizing her instantly. He was staring at her with a dumbfounded look for a brief moment but luckily no one noticed it thanks to the mask that perfectly yet comfortably snuggled and covered up his face.

He eyes the crowd of people just a few feet away from him, recalling one of them being Alek Hofferson. She, along with a couple of his batchmates, were the few who survived and went out to scavenge around. His eyes skimmed across the twins, happily fighting each other, then his cousin, followed by Frank, Cami, Heather, with her weapons in hand and her backpack just right behind her, and Eret.

His lifetime crush, along with his ex-best friend and tormentors all survived the outbreak and stayed at Berk where they remained safe, or at least close to it unlike him who was out at the wasteland, rotting.

Just the thought of them having nothing similar to him and being far apart from him both mentally and physically sort of made his heart ache, leading him to clench his fist into a ball. A loud, but familiar voice coated with the same amount of cockiness it always did broke through his sad moment with a question that made him slightly annoyed, but it was sort of better compared to being overflowed with emotions all at once.

"Who the hell is he?" Sam asks.

Harper wanted to retort if only the chief didn't cut him off and say something first.

"Watch it, Sam. Without him, Johann woudn't have survived the trip and that would leave us to starve for another month, even if we got those rations," Stephen says coldly, making Sam back away a bit nervously.

"It's alright, Chief," Harper assures, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone snapped their heads towards him, taking him aback. "I know these people don't want me in your town, _yes_ ," he continues, "well, I don't have time for this," he gestures to the empty space in front of him, "Johann, thank you for the business," he says, looking at Johann's way before shifting his gaze to the chief, "and it's good to see you, Stephen. I'll see myself out now." Harper says before walking away.

"Hold it, laddie," a voice interrupts, making him stop in his tracks. Harper recognized that voice. It belonged to his godfather, Gerald, Gobber or whatever everybody calls him. His voice was heavily coated with a Scottish accent. He heard him speak to the mayor, "look Stoick, it's getting late. Don't you think the lad needs to rest up a bit before going back out to the wasteland?"

"He's right, sir," Alek interjects, "we should let him stay for the night," she says, her hand placed out on her jutted hip as she eyes Harper with a scrutinizing look.

Stephen gave it some thought but the moment he opened his mouth, Harper decided to cut him off. "Clearly the blonde doesn't trust me so I'll be making my way out now."

Alek looked at him with her signature death glare, her eyes narrowed down into slits as Harper stared back at her, unbothered, acting as if she was just another one of those raiders he's encountered at the wasteland.

"Nonsense, my boy!" Stephen started, getting in between their hostile interaction, "besides, dinner will be starting. Come and make yourself at home as I go prepare and find you an inn to rest at."

Now Harper gave it some thought. He would get a decent meal plus a drink wouldn't hurt. He responded with a shrug before asking, "Do you have a bar?"

"I like the man already, Stoick!" Gerald butts in, giving Stoick a quick elbow in the gut while saying, "finding a drink in the middle of an apocalypse? I like it."

Gerald then answers Harper's question, "yeah, it's just a small walk next to the Great Hall. Anyhow, what's your name?"

"You can call me Drake," he answers, "now...about that meal?" Harper asks before motioning to Stephen to lead him to wherever the promised meal was. Along the way, most of the adults glared at him with a negative look on their faces. All except for Frank just stared at him curiously. Harper noted their reactions before putting his hands behind his back, flicking them off in the process. This made them mutter excessive words underneath their breaths, causing him to chuckle as he walked out their view.

 **ALEK'S POV**

As soon as we arrived at Berk, we noticed a crowd of people gathered together. Behind me trailed a struggling Frank who tried his best to assist Trevor, helping him out since he got his leg shot from trying to get the chicken whom I found for myself at the supermarket and looted the most of it.

While walking, my eyes landed on a strange guy Johann was talking to. He didn't seem to be one of Johann's guards as he wasn't with the guards themselves who were blocking the crowd from the shipping container. Goggles with black lens covered his eyes while a mask, or half-mask, covered his face, making it hard for any of us to identify him. His clothes were a mess, convincing enough for us to believe that he may have stayed at the wasteland for a pretty long period of time. Beneath his ashy grey military vest was a dark green poncho that covered his shirt underneath, the sides of it rolled up a little. His pants were just regular khakis paired off with black combat boots.

Overall, this guy should not be trusted. Yet I can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that Johann practically has his whole arm slung over the said untrustworthy guy.

"Hey Alek, who's that guy over next to Johann?" Heather asks, equally as curious as I am.

I gave the two one last glance before shrugging as a response to Heather's question, "I don't know but I have a gut feeling that we shouldn't trust him."

I realized that our group was huddled together, listening as well to Heather and I's conversation. They all nodded to my response before motioning for them to follow behind. As we got there, we noticed mayor Haddock interacting with both Johann and the guy. The closer we got, the more we heard. There came a part where Johann even mentioned that the guy was a mercenary, giving me even much more of a reason not to trust him.

I interrupted whatever little chat they had going on in between them which was followed by Sam questioning the person's identity. All of this was only received with a cold snappy remark from the chief, the usual for us. Apparently, this guy "protected" Johann and made sure he was safe.

 _What if he forced Johann to bring him in so that he can steal our stuff when we least suspect it the most?_

The guy just calmly thanked Johann and bidded his goodbyes to both the chief and him. I smirked, _thank Thor for that._ The smirk only got wiped off my face when I heard Gobber follow up with a suggestion, apparently to let him stay in for the night, have a nice meal, and drink even. This pissed off both me and the other guys, especially Cami and Rebecca who both had evident scowls on their faces.

I just played along and agreed with Gobber except my voice was coated with sarcasm and indifference, to which he retorts back by calling me a blondie in his follow up answer. Blondie? Pft. Is that the best he's got? _Amateur._ I just glared at him throughout the whole time but he stared back as if I wasn't a threat. As if I was nothing.

He then proceeds to ask Stephen if they have a bar to which Gobber happily comments on, saying that he likes his mindset and likes him already. They both laughed along before Gobber asked what his name was.

He said it's Drake, but I know it's bullshit. While he walks with them towards the bar, he even had the audacity to flick us off from behind, causing everybody to mutter jackass at the same time.

"Yeah...something tells me that this guy is bad news," Eret comments, watching Stephen and company fade off into the distance on the way to the bar.

"What do you guys expect?" Trevor asks, raising both hands up, "Johann said he helped them escort the caravan and besides, we all know Johann is an honest man!" Trevor finishes, his mouth wide open into a grin while both of his hands were up in the air as he stared at us with an expectant look, waiting for a response, only to receive blinks and sighs from the rest of us. "Don't you guys believe him?" Frank softly asks, adding it off with a shrug.

"Fish, you saw him," Heather says. Frank nods, affirming her statement. "He looked like a trader...plus Johann said he's a mercenary! A trained _and_ experienced killer."

"I'm with princess here," Sam says, gesturing towards me making me growl and glare at him, "he looks like a guy who would fuck someone over."

Approaching him and grabbing his arm, I gave it a twist before knocking him down to the ground, "Don't ever call me princess, got it?" I said, completely irritated as I stared down at him, pinning him down to the ground and slowly twisting bit by bit his already twisted arm.

"Oh _come on_ , babe," he says, making kissy faces and obnoxious kiss sounds, "stop playing hard to get. I know you want _this_ ," Sam says, gesturing towards his body with his other free hand for emphasis.

I heard both Cami and Heather retch, resisting the urge to barf. Eret and Frank just glared at him while Trevor remained unbothered, busy petting his chicken.

I was about to go and give Sam a kick for the second time only to stop myself when I noticed everyone staring at the Great Hall. Following the direction of their gazes, I realized the mercenary himself descending the steps of the Great Hall. I assume he's heading for the bar.

I let go of Sam who lets out a sigh of relief, extending his arms out, making his bones crack. I rolled my eyes at him before gesturing for everyone to follow me, "come on guys, he's going to the bar. Let's go follow him and get some answers out of him."


	6. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER FIVE**_ : **DID I ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS?**

 **HARPERS POV**

Walking through the Great Hall relieved some of my childhood memories, one of them being my mom and I racing through these seeing who could go faster. I remember it very clearly, the race would usually end up with me landing in first place.

I haven't seen my mom anywhere around dad throughout my visit so she must be back at home with Skullcrusher and Cloudjumper. During the evacuation, my mother refused to leave the place without or dogs, or in that specific case, puppies. After much pleading, she got to convince my father and got them in the car before we drove off. Both my father and mother hand carried them, one dog for each. The dogs behaved well considering the situation we were in and I'm hoping they've still behaved well even after my sudden departure.

Berk hasn't changed much to be honest. The only things that made the place different were the military and police personnel's roaming around the streets.

We stopped in front of my old high school which has now turned into a housing area.

"This is where you'll be staying," Stephen informs, leading me inside, "I'll go and see if there's a spare room."

The interior of the school hasn't changed much. There were a few tweaks here and there but something about it still screamed familiar. Upfront stood a reception desk where a lady sat only to stand up when she notices my father approaching. On the side were doors that lead to rooms. By adding walls to part it, the classrooms that were once big enough for a class have shrunk to a much more reasonable size enough for one to two people.

"Good evening, Mrs. Hofferson," Stephen greets the lady, "I have a guest that would be staying in for the night. Are there any vacant rooms?"

A woman who looked similar to Alek came into view. _Of course she looks like her, dummy. That's her fucking mom, why else would they look alike?_ My thoughts fire back, making me inwardly chuckle at myself.

"Of course, Mister Haddock," she says, handing me the key to my room, "your room number is 213. If you don't know it, it's the principal's office."

I mumble out a thanks before facing my father, "Excuse me, Mister Haddock, as I drop off my gear. You can go and head first to the mead hall, I'll follow," I say, watching him nod his head before walking out.

Making my way through the corridor, I found myself passing by the lockers that are still clean even after these five years that have passed, surprisingly. Looking up, I noticed that they still had the prom banner up alongside with the posters. A faint ghost of a smile played along my lips as the memories of how tortured and miserable I was back here. It's just laughable to think that now I'm doing the torturing and making people miserable, serving it as a living.

Once I finally spotted the numbers 213 plastered on the wooden door, I slid my key in the doorknob and pushed the door open. I'm met with a queen sized bed, a bit unsure as to why it's even queen sized to begin with. In the room was another door, half open, that lead to the bathroom by the looks of the toilet peaking from the side. A few steps from the left of the door, stood a cabinet. To the right, were two dressers and in between them was a mirror.

I opened my closet and, with a sigh, removed my gear and left it in there. Removing the mask as well, I inhaled only to gag when the scent of a rotting corpse wafted it's way to my nostrils. I gave another scent again only to realize that it must have been me because the once scent of a dead body has been replaced a bit by flowers and strong detergent. Up above the closet sat a towel, I grabbed that and opted for a shower.

As I twisted the shower and felt the water trickle down my body, I jumped back a bit when I realized it was hot rather than cold. Most inns would usually have cold water even if the hot water option was there but surprisingly this one actually lived up to it's red knob. I twisted the blue knob a little, feeling the steaming hot water transition a bit to a warm one. _This'll do_. Once done, I headed out and checked for my bag, grateful to see that I have a spare long red sleeves and some khakis in store. I wore them, followed by my belt, hooking my leather spaulder on. I placed the knife sheath along with it before adjusting the holster for my handgun on my belt.

Getting my other half-mask on, I paused and eyed the dragon that I've painted. Mentally smiling, I thought to myself, _old habits never die._

I debated on whether or not I should wear my goggles before leaving. I'm confident that no one would notice me, especially having five years pass. It's kind of a bonus right now that I was a nobody back then. I gave my a room a quick double check before preparing to leave. Getting my key, I stopped in my tracks, having some odd gut feeling that somebody might break in. Just my wasteland sense kicking in. Being in that hellhole for years just does that to you, I guess.

I went back in and got my gear, hiding it behind my cabinet. After that, I moved the dressers in order to cover the tracks.

Contented, I gave my room one last glance before heading to the Great Hall. I really couldn't help but look around and notice Berk on my way to the Hall. It still seemed like a quiet town perched upon a mountain with the typical Viking spirit still thick and evident in the air and atmosphere itself. Most buildings still sporting Scadinavian decorations such as helmets, shields, and weapons, proving my point. _Still the same old town I grew up in._

Ascending the steps towards the hall, I realized how the brackets that once held torches were either gone. Some brackets were still there except the torches were just left unlit. They must have been dosed them off ever since the Outcast have tried to raid Berk. The moment I opened the massive door, I was greeted by a dimly lit room that smelled of smoke, sweat and liquor. A bunch of people inside, most around my dad's age, were drunk off their asses dancing to whatever music blasted off in the distance, talking and doing whatnot. I scanned the room and spotted a vacant seat, I made a beeline towards it only to stop when I noticed that the room got quieter, and dozens of pair of eyes stared me up and down, matched with either a scowl or a sneer.

 _Huh, reminds me of the wasteland bar outside Mojave._ Ignoring their gazes, I continued walking towards the vacant seat, only to stop yet again in my tracks to be greeted by a buffet. A sign hung up on the wall with words plastered over it reading: **ONCE YOU GET A MEAL, NO TAKE BACKS**. _Oh, there definitely won't be one,_ I silently say to myself as I eye the selection of food presented. It all looked so delicious, making my stomach grumble. I've realized that it has been such a while as well since I've had a proper meal for myself.

On my plate sat a stuffed turkey leg, beside it was a ribeye meat followed by some mashed potatoes. I eyed the room again, finding the vacant seat awhile ago surprisingly still empty. On my way to it, I looked around and realized that what was once the office area in here where dad would spend time working with the government officials has been converted into an armory.

 _I wonder where dad's office is?_

I ate facing the other way, not wanting people to see my face since it's inevitable for me to eat with my half-mask on. After ten minutes, I finally finished my meal. I was still a bit hungry but convinced myself that what I had would already do for the night. Leaving my plate at the dishwashing area, I headed out, deciding to go to the bar next. Descending the steps, I recalled what directions my father gave to get to the bar. _Just a walk from the hall._

The road I was walking too was suddenly illuminated with neon colors. Looking up, a sign written in script read out as _The Edge._ This must be it.

I wrapped my hand around the doorknob, ready to twist and push the door open only to stop and look behind me. I felt as if I was being followed. Shaking the feeling off, I went it and was greeted by Gobber manning the fort. Surprisingly, there weren't that much people inside.

Gobber is pretty much an alcoholic and since most of the time what we, or he, uses is mead instead of alcohol, the drink would turn out pretty strong. Despite that, he still is a proud owner of a mechanic shop named _The Forge_ which, if I'm not mistaken, is just behind the bar. _I wonder when the opening of this bar was?_

Sitting myself on the bar, I was greeted by the two-limbed man, "Ah! Drake, great to see you," he greets, "Now!" he loudly exclaims, taking me back in surprise, "what would you want?"

"You got any whiskey?"

Gobber visibly grimaced, letting out a gag. "Me boy, you're at Berk. One of the few places that actually sell _real_ alcohol. Tell you what! Take this, it's me very own secret brew on the house," he says, heading towards a keg and pouring me some mead in the wooden mug. He handed the cup to me before leaving to sit with friends of his own.

He also quickly notes me that if I ask for another drink, I'm gonna have to pay for it. _Typical Gobber_ , I thought as I downed my drink. I eye the table he sat on, my eyes widening when I realized him reading a book. Gobber, reading? When and how did that happen?

Eventually, I transferred to a table that's nearby the corner, quitely drinking mead there. Using the opportunity, I took the time to fix my mask, hoping that Gobber wouldn't notice me. Pulling my knife out, I started to make adjustments to it by creating a small hook that held the jaw, covering half of my face and most of my neck.

I gave it a quick test, satisfying me by working out just fine. I sipped on my drink in silence, debating on getting another cup or not. The sound of the door creaking open caught my attention. Up ahead were Alek and her gang, all glaring at me simultaneously. _Are you fucking serious?_

Gobber then got up, approaching their table and ready to take their orders. I overheard most of them getting mead except for Alek, Frank, Heather and Cami. Mugs were passed to the rest that ordered mead as they happily cheered on their way to sit at the booth across me. _Again, are you fucking serious?_

I continued to stay silent, mostly observing. It was very telling that they were whispering things to each other since Trevor and Rebecca are both horrible in that department. Subtle shuffling followed and before I could even realize or do anything about it, Alek, Heather and Cami already found their way towards my table, taking a seat right across me.

The girls swiftly made their way to Harper's booth, all three of them sitting just right across Harper who stared at them with no emotion whatsoever present on his face. He didn't look intimidated, not one bit. In fact, he just casually sipped on his drink, taking peeks in his mug from time to time to check if there will be enough for him to last through whatever the three girls are about to put him in.

Heather sat at the left, Cami on the right, and Alek on the middle. All three of them held a glare at Harper, Alek expressing the strongest one.

Harper chuckles at the situation, "And I suppose you don't trust me. So, now, you're going to interrogate me. Am I right, blonde?" Harper asks, a sly smirk stretching across his face as he took another gulp from his drink.

"And I suppose you're going to answer them?" Alek retorts.

"Interesting," Harper comments, "Now, please, do ask these questions, blonde. But first and foremost I, too, have a question as well. What are your names?"

"We should be asking you that," Heather counters, still holding the glare.

"Lighten up, girls," Harper jokingly says, causing all three of them to let out growls and inch their faces even closer to him, "or not." Harper whispers, ticking joking off the list of ways in getting him out of situations like these.

"As I've said my name is Drake. That's all there is to it. What are your name, girls? Now, answer my question since I politely answered yours," Harper monotonously answers, causing the girls to look at each other questioningly with fear lingering in their eyes.

Whatever it was, Harper really questioned it. _When did I have that kind of strength to scare off my lifetime tormentors?_ He thought to himself.

The girls were hesitant in answering his question. They all shared looks with each other with a look of confusion in their eyes. Alek gave on more glare before gathering all three of them to create a tiny circle as they whispered to ideas each other. Unlike Trevor and Rebecca, they were very good at it.

Cami broke off the silence, introducing herself first. "I'm Cami, the girl to your right is Heather," she points to Heather who finally let go of that glare but still held a stone cold gaze, "and lastly, this is Alek. Try not to piss her off," she finishes off with a smirk.

"Now that introductions are done," Harper states, toying with his knife while looking at Alek straight in the eyes, "what do you want?"

"What are you _really_ doing here?" she asked in an accusing tone, tilting her head to the side.

Harper merely groans in irritation, "As what trader Johann has said, he hired me to escort him and his caravans back here to Berk. Nothing special."

That's when Alek had a stare off with Harper, determination oozing off of her while Harper just stared at her, completely bored out of his mind. As bored as he still looked, Alek felt exposed once his gaze crossed hers. It felt as if his emerald eyes has stared deep into her soul. She was thankful for the fact that the table had a lamp to cover up the blush creeping up her cheeks.

Never in life has she ever seen such eyes make such minimal effort to look intensely into one, better yet into her. Except for one.

Harper.

She remembered Harper. He was a quiet, witty, sarcastic individual. He was the only guy in their batch who never came back to Berk after being separated from his parents.

Heather's concerned voice snapped her out of her trance like state. She shook her head, noticing the girls giving her a worried look while Harper on the other hand resisted the urge to laugh.

"What's so funny?" she asks in an irritated tone, snapping her head towards Harper.

Harper lets out a scoff before downing all that's left in the mug within one go. While he was busy drinking, Cami tried to snatch Harper's handgun in which she fails as Harper instinctively responds by quickly dropping his mug, grabbing her by the neck, and hovering a knife just a few inches above her skin. Since his grip on her was a bit loose, she then tried to reach for his handgun in which he also stopped by gripping her wrist hardly with his other free hand. The grip was really tight, far tighter than any grip her wrist has ever been through, the girl winced in pain as she bit her lip, trying to distract herself from the pain.

Heather pulled a out a knife and went for Harper, attempting to put him on headlock only to fail as he dodges the girl's arm and instead goes for Heather's. Eventually, he lets go the both of the both of them, casually grabbing his now empty mead and placing it on the counter. Gobber was too busy drinking to realize the three dimes that Harper held out. When he finally caught Gobber's attention, Gobber nodded and went ahead to get Harper another mug of mead. 

Most coins are converted to today's currency since paper money was not that comforting and lost all its value as time passed.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Harper hears Alek exclaim, making not just the two girls stand, but the rest of the gang stand up as well. Suddenly, it felt like it was high school all over again as fear started to rush through him, overwhelming him all at once.

 _I'm not Hiccup Haddock anymore_ , he chants to himself, closing his eyes before opening them again. _I'm Harper Haddock, or better known as the Night Fury, notorious for being one out of the few deadliest mercenaries in the wasteland._

Harper calmly wrapped his fingers around the mug, taking the rim to his lips before chugging it's contents within less than a minute. He then threw the mug at him, making him fall to the side revealing Eret who ran towards him, only for his jaw to be jabbed by Harper. This caused all of them, except for Frank who stayed behind, to charge at Harper.

Harper got distracted at how many they were compared to how few there is of him - and by few he means _alone._ This distraction has given Sam some sort of leverage to put him into a headlock, only for it to be retaliated with Harper carrying Sam on the shoulder and body slamming him onto the nearest table. The boy lets out one last groan before rolling off of the table and falling face flat onto the ground, passing out. Eret then grabbed Harper by the body, holding him up as Trevor tried to deliver a few hits towards him. Most of his hits were blocked by Harper's kicks, Trevor was taken aback, distracted, causing Harper to deliver on full blow making Trevor fall on the floor in pain. He then headbutts Eret, giving the Brit a nosebleed he'll surely never forget. Eret lets out an exclamation of pain, clutching his now bleeding nose. Before he could even realize it, Harper delivers another headbutt, knocking him out cold.

Trevor ran towards Harper, letting out a battle cry as his fists were up in the air ready to punch. Harper simply steps aside and puts out his leg, causing Trevor to trip and fall onto Eret and Sam. Alek tried to go for a swing while Harper tried to catch his breath. Harper notices this, looking at her intently with a glare evident on his face. This made Alek stop full-time and took the time to catch her breath as well.

"Alright! Stop this right now!" a loud shout erupts from behind the counter, causing everybody to wince. They looked at the source to see Gobber staring at everybody who had their head downs, feeling shameful except for Harper who looked directly at Gobber, feeling sorry.

"Look at meh bar!" he exclaims, gesturing towards the chairs scattered all over the place, the unaligned tables, and the three men who were knocked out on the floor but definitely not because of mead, "you lot had to trouble yourself with tha lad! And don't blame this on Drake," he inserts before any of them could even speak, pointing his hook toward Drake for emphasis, "I witnessed Cami myself try to pickpocket his gun while Heather tried to get the man in a headlock! He was merely doing this for self-defense. You are all to blame here, not him."

"I don't kno' why you don't trust the lad, but from his polite gestures so far he's decent. Far more decent than all of you!" he scolds, pointing to each and every person of Alek's gang, eyeing them warily.

He lets out an exhale, calming himself before facing Harper, "'Ey, sorry about them. I'm sure Stoick would be pissed about this. This isn't the Berkian way, what they did was the Viking way. How about another drink on the house? And don't worry about the furniture, I needed to replace them anyway," he smiles, letting out a laugh before patting Harper on the back.

Harper shook his head, turning down Gobber's offer. Instead, he retrieved two nickels from his pocket and placed it on the counter.

"Look, it's my fault since I pretty much look untrustworthy. Here, take these as a token of thanks for that mead," he says, sliding the nickels onto the counter to move them closer to Gobber.

He made his way towards the door, ready to leave, but before he could even fully close it, he turns around and faces the gang, mostly Alek before speaking, "By the way, that was a nice chat, blondie. I hope I got to answer all of your questions," Harper says in an faux enthusiastic tone, giving Alek a playful look before leaving the bar.


	7. Chapter 6

**_A/N: Hey guys, here is the next two chapters of the rewrite. So um yeah, some chapters will come out in the next few weeks or months depending if me and my beta aren't gonna play pubg or minecraft._**

 ** _Reacting to the comments:_**

 **venusinthe10th: this story is ass! terrible! pure fucking shit mate**

 **WTF... you're my beta you ass.**

 **Andjrew76: I love where this is going. Keep up the great work.**

 **Boundsoul34: this is pretty good story. keep it up.**

 **Thank you guys, we appreciate the support.**

 **So yeah, enough of this shit, enjoy ze story**.

 _ **CHAPTER SIX**_ : **HEL CHOOSES YOU**

 **ALEK'S POV**

Basically, we're screwed. We've pissed Gobber off and now he's ordered us to clean up the place. Sam, Trevor and Eret are still out cold after being given a beating from a man who was twice less their size. Trevor passing out wasn't so shocking since he holds a similar body to the man. But Sam and Eret? It was hard to believe since those guys were practically made out of muscles.

Even though hours has already passed, the mercenary's eyes still burned in my memory, presenting itself crystal clear. There's just something about them that reminded me of someone, I just can't seem to put my finger on as to _who_.

While Heather's left behind to clean up whatever mess we still haven't covered, most of us spent the time dragging the injured guys to Mrs. Haddock.

Along our way, we encountered the last person I wanted to see. The mercenary walked alongside us, watching us struggle to pull the helpless bodies towards the clinic. Upon seeing this, he noticeably suppresses a chuckle, covering it up with a smirk as he sends a goofy grin our way.

"I see you guys need help with the three musketeers," Drake comments playfully, placing his hands behind his back as he stared straight into my eyes. I gritted my teeth in annoyance at how much of a snarky bastard he is. I wanted to decline his offer, but before I could even get the words out of my throat he was already helping Frank by taking Sam from him. What's even more shocking is that he carried him effortlessly with a calm expression, as if Sam was as light as a feather.

"So, where are we taking them?" he asks, stopping right in front of us. The glare I held faltered when Cami answered. She moved forward to help me carry Trevor.

"To the clinic. Follow me," Cami orders, leading the way as she gently drags Trevor's limp body. The mercenary just nods and follows suit.

As we walked, I felt Cami shift closer to me and whisper something, "Hey, Alek. Don't you think he's, _well_ , you know... _hot_."

This made me snap my head at her real quick to the point where I felt my neck crack at just such a simple gesture. The neutral look on my face was now replaced with a questioning one as I process what I've just heard slip from her mouth.

" _Whoa,_ Alek," she quickly follows up, "what I meant was-" she pauses and inhales before speaking again. This time she was much closer, "I can tell that he's our age and, _look_ , he seems like a nice guy."

After hearing this, I instinctively stared at Drake who was walking just behind us. Truth be told, I actually do find him attractive. Auburn hair, green eyes that just effortlessly pierces through you, and even if he were thin chances are beneath the clothing he's wearing right now he could have a lean body which is what I'm secretly looking for in a man.

I shook my head, finding myself unbelievable to have these type of thoughts race in my mind, especially at a time like this. I'm not just gonna let looks sway me. Despite the quite attractive physical qualities he presents, he's still a sarcastic buffon and I still have this gut feeling that he's untrustworthy.

After several minutes of mindless walking, we finally arrived at our destination. Drake opened the door of the clinic for us and slowly dropped Sam onto the floor, helping him sit and lean onto the wall for support.

Val enters the room, a warm, pleased smile stretching over her lips upon seeing us.

"Alek, Cami, Frank! What brings you here?" she happily asks, placing two syringes down on the table as she eyes all three of us. When Trevor, Sam, and Eret landed into her line of sight, we didn't even bother answering. She just rolled her eyes and laughed, telling us to come and place them on the beds.

Before we could even leave the room, she silently beckoned for us to stay. Just above a whisper, she asks, "Say, who was that man? I've never seen him before. Is he a new guard?"

"Um, no. He's a mercenary Johann hired. I heard that the Outcasts are starting to target trade routes along Berk so he hired him since, apparently, he's a well known man in the business. At least, that's what I heard from awhile ago while I was eavesdropping the conversation between him and your husband," I answer.

"I heard rumors from the other travelers that he's known as the _Night Fury_ , one of the wastelands deadliest mercenaries so far," Frank adds on in a joyful tone, clasping his hands together in a bit of an uncontrollable excitement.

Val merely smiles, finding the positivity Fishlegs was radiating amusing.

"I think you kids should go and get some rest now, I think Stephen might send you out again tomorrow. As for these three, chances are it may take about two to three days roughly before they wake up. I'll go and consult Gothi. Whoever knocked these guys out certainly did the trick," she explains, giving them a quick check here and there before bidding us goodnight and ushering us out.

We bid our goodbyes as well before leaving the clinic.

 **HARPER'S P.O.V**

The moment my mother fell into my line of sight, I resisted the urge to hug her, kiss her, and tell her that I was alive. She has changed so much ever since the last time I saw her. Her hair has started to turn into a light shade of grey. Alongside this, she also had a couple of wrinkles on her face. Overall, she aged. The feeling of regret tore in through me as I started to wonder why I didn't even bother visiting her or Berk throughout my traveling. _How did she cope with me being gone?_ Most importantly, _how did dad cope_? I didn't even want to think of it but part of me is sure that he was happy, finally being able to get rid of his failure of a son. My mother however, it's a different story.

My mother was more supportive of me, always encouraging me to do things where I excelled, which was drawing. My dad on the other hand wasn't so supportive of it. He desperately wanted me to drop my pencils and drawing equipments and pick up weights instead, believing that hitting the gym is a productive move compared to drawing. To top that, he also wanted me to follow his footsteps and become a politician as well, just like him. To run as a senator, and I didn't want _any_ of that or the things along the lines of that.

I only wanted to become a simple architect, engineer or just anything that involves drawing. Then followed by settling down, start a family, have children and maybe have them with Alek if I'm lucky enough.

My mother has helped me through a lot. She made the pain that my father would inflict go away. The moment she knew I was suffering from depression she decided to help me and make sure that I was okay. Even way before she knew I had it, she's made my gloomy days turn into ones that basked with rays of sunlight. Guilt ripped through me, followed by regret at the thought of ever abandoning her side. I wonder if she felt the same way I did the day we got separated. Both sad and lonely.

As soon as I left the clinic I went straight back to my room and started fixing my gear using the tuning and cleaning kit Demsey has provided me. As I got out my handgun and rifle, I started to disassemble it and clean the dust off it's surface, making sure as well to polish the rust that started to mold within the steel.

It took me about five minutes to clean each weapon. By the time I was done, it was eleven o'clock in the evening. I sighed, placing the rifle and the handgun in the closet before lazily throwing my body back to bed. There was absolutely nothing to do. I shuffled closer to my bag and reached for my sketchbook followed by my journal, a few things I brought with me during the evacuation.

Pulling out a pencil, I pondered on what to draw but before I could even think of it I already noticed my hands starting to scribble something, as if it had a mind of its own. After shading the last portion, it just dawned on me that I drew Alek.

I drew her in a way I've never drawn before.

After all this years, I still don't know _why_ I have feelings for her. She doesn't feel the same way for me back then and now I'm pretty sure she still feels nothing. I'm non-existent to her, a someone she barely cares for.

 _God_ , I closed my eyes and slammed my sketchbook shut. With a sigh, opened my journal and wrote out my entry. After doing so, I placed both items in my backpack and closed my eyes, letting sleep take its course.

 **NO ONE'S P.O.V**

Harper groaned as the sunlight came into view, slipping through the tiny slit the curtain provided. It's rays hit his face, making him shuffle under the pillow to block it out. He groaned even more so realizing that he has to get up. Harper was slightly hungover, and it annoyed him to know that simply two mugs of mead lead him to the brink of it.

With a sigh, followed by a quick stretching of his limbs, he got up and went to the bathroom and looked at the mirror, noticing that he'd grown a stubble overnight.

"I might look like a dad if I keep this," Harper mutters, running his fingers through the stubble which tickled them a bit. He looked around the bathroom to check for a razor, only to give up and settle for his knife instead. After washing his face, he slowly shaved off his facial hair before hopping into the shower and brushing his teeth.

"It's been a while, my breath might even smell like wasteland overall," he joked as he watched the toothpaste ooze out it's packet and onto the brush.

After drying himself off, he settled with green long sleeves, making sure to roll up each of its ends above his elbow. He pairs these with khakis, followed by midnight black boots. Once he's tied the laces, he shrugs himself into his tactical vest, placing magazines for the rifle in its pockets. He then grabs his belt, securing onto it his holster, knife sheath, and magazine holder for his handgun. After that he then wears his poncho, securing his spaulder with another knife sheath before grabbing his backpack and taking his mask, rifle and goggles, ready to head out with keys in hand.

Thinking that there was still much time, he decided to walk around and take a look at every place that his eyes settled on yet. His steps halted to a stop when he saw one particular thing that piqued his interest.

His locker.

Hidden underneath his mask was a look of surprise as his eyes scanned over the pictures, sticky notes, and posters that were on the metal. There, on his locker, was a memorial. He read through a couple of the sticky notes, one from his mother and the other from his father while the rest came from his friends and other family members. One note in particular caught his attention. It sat a few inches beside Frank's, a bit poorly glued and close to falling off and completely covering the note below it. He never thought that _this_ could possibly happen, but it _did_ , and it's _there_.

It was a note from _Alek_.

Bending down slightly, he slowly read the note, making sure to savor each word in sentences.

I'm sorry for not helping you, let alone noticing you or at least glance your way and talk to you back in high school. Wherever you are right now, I hope you're safe. Safe alive or safe resting with the Valkyries. I'm so sorry I just left you all of a sudden and ignored you like I did with everyone else. We used to be best friends and I just took that for granted and let it go to waste.

Alek.

His heart swelled with emotions as he read the note over and over again. He couldn't believe what he's just read.

She's _sorry_?

No, it _couldn't_ be. Maybe it was just out of pity since everyone thought I was miles away from this shitty town or even worse, dead. Harper scoffed, swallowing the lump in his throat while blinking back the tears. He knocked on the reception desk once he's walked away from his locker.

A few minutes later, a man under the name of _Bucket_ , or what most of the townspeople knew as Michael, emerged from underneath. He got the nickname Bucket ever since he got into an accident, one that involved him getting struck by lightning. Harper just handed him his keys before walking away. Bucket couldn't even talk much ever since the accident, but his scary looks made up for his lack of vocal abilities.

Harper walked out to a very sunny Berk, merely cursing it for ever making his life miserable, even more so out at the wasteland. His peaceful walk was interrupted by a humvee stopping right in front of him. Inside it were his father, Seth, Gerald, and a couple of army officials, with one of them heading out of the vehicle.

"Drake!" the mayor says in a stern tone, one that was all too familiar to Harper that it didn't even make him flinch. "You've got some serious trouble with _us_ and by _us_ I mean _all_ of Berk!" he exclaims in an exasperated tone, his hands raised in frustration as Harper just stared at him.

"Let me guess," Harper says in a tone that feigned curiosity, "does it have anything to do with teaching three muttonheads a lesson they've been for too long?"

Stephen was pissed, but before he could even retort Gerald came in between to interrupt the conversation, "Whut he 'as tryin' to say is, we need to 'ire you into escorting our scavengers outside the wasteland. Since you gave them a beating. Just for today."

Harper scoffs, "After what they did to me? Are you sure they won't just kill me and leave me to rot?"

"Nonsense!" Gerald counters with too much of an excitement for a bit of a heavy topic. He blinks and sighs, before speaking, "look, I kno' yu had an arguement," Gerald started, much more seriously this time, "but you see, the mayor's wife is sick and we need to send a group to scavenge for the antibiotics she needs. Now will yu help us?"

Harper's eyes were wide with what he's just heard.

 _Mom, sick?_

"I'll do it," he says with no second doubt, "and as for the payment, it's on the house after what you did for me in the bar. I think it's time to pay you back."

Gerald opens his mouth, ready to respond only to be cut off by a few more of Harper's requests and interrogations.

"But, put me in charge of the group and at the same time, I'd like to know what the sickness of your wife is, mayor?"

"She has pneumonia," Stephen says with a sad sigh, "and...her oxygen tank is running low. If she doesn't get a new one, chances are she might not even make it by tomorrow."

"When does the group leave?" Harper asks, a bit too quickly for the likes of the men upfront.

"Right _now_. That's why you need to come with us," Seth answers.

Harper nodded before quickly getting into the back of the humvee. He prayed to Odin and hoped that his mother would turn out fine. He imagined her lying on her bed. Weak and frail while letting out coughs that wracked through her chest, exhausting her even more.

They parked beside an army tent. As they got out of the humvee, Harper was greeted by the group. His eyes roamed around the area, seeing Cami and Heather busy loading up cartridges in their magazines, Rebecca invested in finding something in her pack, Frank busy reading a book about botany and Alek just sitting at the edge of a table busy swinging a tomahawk around.

The moment he step foot into the tent the group were alarmed and immediately got up with not-so-friendly looks displayed on their faces.

"And what the fuck is he doing here?" Heather menacingly asks in an accusing tone, gesturing a hand towards Harper.

"It's his fault we're three men short!" Cami adds on.

"Yeah," Rebecca agrees, "now we're gonna have a hard time finding that, um….er," Rebecca pauses to remove the pack that her face was once covered and shoved in to ask, "what are we finding for again?" causing everyone to groan.

"Antibiotics, _Rebecca_ ," Frank answers, lowering his book down as he sends an annoyed glance at Rebecca. He finds it irritating how much of an imbecile she is sometimes, "we are searching for ant-"

He was suddenly interrupted by Alek's harsh tone.

"They're right, mayor Haddock. Even if he walks out of town we can still find the antibiotics your wife needs."

Loud chatter surfaced around the tiny space, most of it were just about Harper being useless and how they'd be better off without him.

"Enough!" Stephen yells, causing them keep quiet. " _Look_ , first of all it's your fault for not trusting the man. He was polite in accepting our hospitality. And, if anybody knows what's out there, it's definitely this merc," Stephen proudly says, giving Harper a quick pat on the back.

"Drake, how long were you outside the wasteland?" Stephen curiously asks.

As innocent as the question was, this woke up and stirred some anger within Harper that made him answer and snap back in such an aggressive tone.

" _Five_. Years. Mister Haddock," he grits out, " five years of living in hell ever since day _one_ of the outbreak," his tone was cold and unsettling.

Stephen was taken back by the change of tone but instead just brushed it off and used what Harper just said as an additional point to what he's said awhile ago. "You see, he has more experience than all of you combined. While most of you got out four months ago, compared to him, he's already been out for _five_ years!"

Before anyone else could object, Stephen continued, "As for the leader, i'm putting Drake in charge but Alek, you'll still supervise him. You're still the leader, in most occasions of course but for this one, Drake's taking the cake," Stephen says in an authoritative tone.

"And no objections! This is final. Understood?" he adds on before anyone could even say anything. This received sighs and groans of annoyance from the group.

"I said, _understood_?" he asks again, much more aggressively this time.

"Understood, sir," they all monotonously say, making the mayor nod in approval.

"Very well then," he says before facing Harper.

"Drake, once you're all ready head for Ronald Reagan Medical Center. There's an abandoned evacuation center there. One of our scouts said that the doors of the hospital were closed down by the emergency alarm so find another way in," Stephen informs him before leaving the tent followed by two men trailing behind him.

As Harper was about to speak, a tomahawk was immediately placed right beneath his chin in what seems to be a poor attempt of a friendly manner by Alek. "No funny ideas, merc," Alek taunts, walking around Harper and eyeing him down like he was some sort of hostile creature, "I'm still the leader of this group, got it?"

"By all means, blondie. But if the Freaks turn you into one of them I won't hesitate to shove this knife in your leaking brain," Harper counters, pulling out a weapon — a knife — and placing it just right above the skin of her throat, pinning her against the wall, "got it?" he taunts back at her.

Alek glared at him, but deep down she was frightened. She nods at his taunt and watches Harper get off her.

"If you're ready, come outside. We will be stopping once we reach the highway, there's a settlement there that we could stay at before heading out the next day," Harper announces before leaving the tent.

Heather walked to Alek with a concerning look, "You okay? That was — _I think_ — a bit too intense, Alek. Remember that five years in the wasteland could make you do things you'd regret."

Alek lets out a loud scoff, throwing her arm back in anger making Heather's grip on her forearm loosen. "As if he chose to be a mercenary! He chose to live in the wasteland, it's his fault he's like that!" she angrily exclaims, stomping off into another direction to cool things off.

Her footsteps where halted when a very angry looking Harper entered the room. He roughly grabbed Alek's shoulder and pushed her into a wall, placing his fingers under her chin. staring straight into her eyes.

"That's where you're wrong, blondie," he says, his voice near to a growl causing everyone to back off and cower in fear, "do _you_ think I wanted to _kill_ people? Do you think I wanted to _live_ in the wasteland, my ass _suffering_ through all sorts of struggles while _yours_ comfily sat under the safety of your home?" he asks, his voice sounding much deadlier than ever. Alek could only respond in heaps of gasps for air, her breathing pattern ragged as Harper tightened his grip on her chin, puckering her lips unconsciously.

"Do you think I wanted to be _this_? Well, let me tell you something, Alek," he says, in a menacing matter. He's now loosened his grip on her chin and replaces it with a taunting finger, pointing right at her. Alek's eyes were wide. With fear of what comes next.

"You don't choose to live in Hel, Hofferson. Hel chooses you," he finishes, leaving the room in a much calmer state than before. The group was left speechless.


	8. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER SEVEN**_ : **WELCOME TO THE CITADEL**

 **ALEK'S P.O.V**

As soon as Drake left the tent, I followed behind. Just, _who_ does _he_ think he is to have that kind of attitude to everybody, nevertheless, _me_? I got out to see him toying with his knife, throwing it up and down in the air before giving it quick flicks.

Oh, are you serious? It's one of those guys who think they're big shots but in reality are just losers.

"Hey, what's your problem?" I hiss, watching him remove his glasses.

I'm left awestruck as his eyes glared at me. The were magnetizing. The glare he held just intensifies it even more. It's as if they were the headlights of a speeding car just inches away from hitting a deer.

And, in this situation, _I_ am the unfortunate deer.

Snap out of it, Alek. You're a _Hofferson_ and the last thing a Hofferson does is ogle over boys.

Oh, but, _fuck_ , he really _is_ handsome.

Drake's loud voice pulled me out of my sinful thoughts and, for once, I'm kind of thankful that he's there.

"Well, blondie. I was supposed to leave this hell-hole you call a safezone when your _mayor_ suddenly called for my help in dire need to save his beloved wife. _Now_ , I thought I'd do it alone so I wouldn't have much weight to carry on my shoulders but turns out you welps who carry classy guns — which I _assume_ you can use — are gonna have to come with me," he explains in a mocking tone.

"And _why_ are you calling us welps?" I asked, annoyed that he finds the situation humorous.

That's when he let out a small laugh that slowly transitioned into a loud, boisterous one, one that resonated through his chest as it slowly came down into a soft wheeze. His playful expression suddenly turned into a serious one as he answered.

"Your mayor thinks your four month experience in the no-man's land is not enough. To me that's quite impressive and great to hear since the life expectancy of an individual such as yourself can last six months until you die or, pretty much, well — that's it."

"And you think five years can make a difference? You were a welp too, remember?" I retorted with a smirk on my face.

His hands immediately stopped fiddling with that knife that he seems to love so much as he turned around and looked at me with daggers, "you think I wanted to be who I am today? Did we not have this conversation, like, ten seconds ago," he says, only to let out a sigh when I stayed silent and waited for him to explain more. In a bit of a rushed tone, he continues: "I was there, outside the wasteland, day _one_. I was in an evacuation center before a stampede of civilians and freaks showed up which made me hide under a car as they all passed by. Once I got up, everyone was either turning into one of them, or dead. So, I ran as fast as I can aaaand, look where it got me,' he says yet again in a very cold tone that he's seem to have perfected.

"You said five years, right? So you were seventeen that time," I asked, my anger depleting. Maybe I haven't been in his shoes but his story matches up with mine since I was at the exact same day when the stampede came in. That's how Harper got separated from his parents before most of Berk along with the others ran back here and set up the walls have standing today.

He sighed before turning his back towards me, sheathing his knife. His shoulders slump as the sound of something popping close and being shoved in one of his many pockets stretched between us.

Maybe he _is_ different from the others. He doesn't act like a Sam nor an Eret, he's kind of like a Frank but is far from a Trevor.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry for invalidating the things that you've been through and the way you felt as you went through them," I apologize. He slowly turned around and, for the first time, looked at me softly with his eyes that would always be unwavering and stone cold.

"It's not your fault, Alek," he sighs, ruffling his hair before facing me completely, "if anything, it should be mine. I should've known that people here just don't know what most people struggle through behind those walls. You have fresh water, fresh food, _hell_ , even clean clothes. I doubt anybody outside would be wearing a dress going to a club, even if it's just for the night," he jokes, making me giggle.

Giggle.

 _Giggle?_

When did that happen? I don't giggle. In fact, I barely giggle. Almost half of the boys at our high school could barely make me laugh, let alone giggle at their punchlines. But, _him_ , a lone mercenary out in the wasteland managed to make me giggle just with a sarcastic remark. He's not that bad.

"Uh, blondie, you still there?" he checks, causing me to snap out of my train of thoughts as I look down, blushing.

Oh, gods. After seven years of being at high school I didn't even manage to blush, not one bit yet here I am, only having met this man for at least two days and a half and I'm blushing like a mad girl.

"Yeah, we're all set. Alek, here's your pack," Heather interrupts, handing me my pack as she sends a smirk my way. I sent her a glare in return but that didn't make any difference but instead made Cami join the smirking party as well.

I was about to snarkily comment at what they're doing only to be interrupted by Drake who was speaking.

"Alright, we have thirteen hours of day time and the settlement is at least a two day walk unless you guys have a ride?" he asked, arching one brow up as he eyed the group individually.

"Well, the ride...Rebecca and Trevor kinda broke it so cross that one out of the list," I answer for us, staring at Rebecca who shyly smiled even though deep inside she has no regrets as to what her and her twin brother has done.

"Okay then," he sighs, rubbing his temples before leading the way, "keep your eyes peeled and your finger on the trigger. Outside people are different. They'll do anything to please themselves without any conscience, whether it'd be through murder, burglary, and so on and so forth," Drake warned before motioning us to follow.

 **HARPER'S P.O.V**

Never in my whole life have I gotten Alek Hofferson to laugh or even blush for that matter. Back in high school, she was a rock. Some even speculated that she was a lesbian but that rumor was immediately proven to be false when the guy spread the rumor got his arm broken by Alek.

All the boys at our school would always fight for her attention, especially Sam and Eret. Those eggheads don't seem to understand that no means no and not a secret message that Alek was trying to play hard to get.

Then there was Heather and Cami who tried to hook up with me to which I politely declined and in return, nearly got demonized for by both women. Cami by pick locking my lockers padlock and changing the password. Heather by spreading out the rumor that I was into dragons, which was true hence why the twins super glued a kids book about one onto my face.

But, why me? Even if I remove my mask chances are she'll beat my ass into a pulp for the amount of times I've been outwardly aggressive to her.

When we finally got to the city districts, or at least what's left of it, they paused for a bit to admire the destruction that nature has caused. I've been here too many times that I just didn't even bother looking. I was either here staying the night in the buildings or killing a group of raiders.

Shrieking sounds bounced off the place, making me tell everyone to get down.

"Why are we getting down?" Alek whispered. I shushed her and slowly followed the source of the sound that turned out to just come from a bunch of Freaks.

I slowly walked back to them, alarming them that there were Freaks up ahead. Cami opened her about and was about to say something only for me to cut her off.

"And, no, we don't go in _guns blazing_. The lack of suppressors on your guns will just attract them or even worse, raiders and we don't want any of that either."

We continued walking a bit more before stopping just right ahead a gamestop. Pointing towards it, I spoke, "wait in there. And, no, I don't need help." Holding my rifle out, I gave it to Alek, kindly asking her to hold it in which she politely obliged doing so.

I ran quickly towards the area that had lots of Freaks crawling around. I caught an attention of one who was already approaching to me. Pulling my knife out, I ran to it while yelling out which caught the attention of the other Freaks. Once I feel myself slowly being surrounded, I pulled my gun out and carefully picked my shots.

Behind the now deceased body of a Freak came three more. I shot the leg of the one that was close by, making him and his other companions trip in the process. Before the one I shot at the leg could get up, I shot it again, watching blood spill out of it's head and splatter onto the pavement. I watched the other two recover from the hard fall and make their way towards me. I aimed my gun towards them only to hear a click.

"Oh, Odin, why right now?" I groan before pulling out my knife. I spun around and used my pistol as a bat, hitting one Freak that ran nearby. Saliva dribbled from his mouth and onto his chin as he grappled me, his stark green eyes staring down at me hardly as adamantly tried to shove his tongue in my mouth. The furthest the saliva could reach was my mask, and I'm thankful that that's how things were.

I struggled, finding my way to a right angle before shoving my knife into it's stomach. Pulling out my knife, I watch the Freak look at it's new wound. This gave me leverage to get a grip of it's head and push my knife into it's jaw. Before I could even pull my knife out, another one tackled me from behind, causing me to lose my balance and drop my pistol in the process. I blocked my face, giving the Freak that straddled me no access to my face or anywhere near my mouth. I grabbed it's head, giving it a twist until I heard a very pleasing _crack_ , and watched the body slide off mine and fall limp on the concrete.

Taking my gun and pulling out my knife, I looked towards the group who were staring at me with wide eyes. I wiped the blood and saliva off my mask before chuckling. "Never seen those things before, huh?"

"This never washes off," I mutter as I fail at wiping off the remnants of their saliva off of my clothes.

"Er," Frank starts with a squeaky tone, raising a hesitant shaky finger with twitchy eyes, "what were those things?"

"Oh, _these_ ," I perk up, bending down to take the head of the fresh deceased Freak on the floor, holding it up to Frank, "these guys are harmless. They're just, you know, tourists from Russia and that is they're very unique way of saying hi," I sarcastically say before throwing the head off into a much farther distance, making sure to not hit any scrap metal on the way so that it won't attract unwanted attention.

"Seriously, Drake. What the _hell_ are those things?" Alek asks in a disgusted tone, scanning the area filled with dead bodies.

I sigh, "well, guess it's time for lesson one-oh-one in the wasteland. These guys are called _Freaks_ or the tier _one_ of the infection. What you saw during the outbreak was tier _two_. They already turned which results to them in being much deadlier. On the other hand, these guys however," I gesture towards the dead Freaks upon line of sight, "just recently turned. It'll take about a week or two before they reach to tier two," I answer, examining the bodies.

"Yep," I absentmindedly confirm to myself, or the group, whichever works, "these guys were raiders or at least whats left of them."

I ushered Alek to give me my rifle, only for her to look at me quizzically in response.

"My rifle, blondie," I explain, making her roll her mouth into an O as she passed me my rifle. She hands it to me with a smile and I couldn't help but notice the glint in her eyes.

After all these years, they're still beautiful and held the same mesmerizing gaze that would put me in a trance back in high school. The nostalgia that crept in my chest made want to just touch her — even in the most simplest ways — hold her close to me and play with her hair.

Fuck. I really need to stop thinking like _this_.

Heather's voice snapped me out of my trance, "Drake, you alright? We're running out of time here."

"What- wait..what. Oh, yeah," I stutter, clearing my throat, "mmm, right. We should get moving. Maybe in a few hours we'll reach the settlement."

Everyone stared at me weirdly before walking ahead. I can tell that I'm blushing just at how hot my face is.

 **ALEK'S P.O.V**

Did he just stutter?

Did his badass attitude that he seem to have kept so well faltered into one of a shy embarrassed teenager?

Not that it was inhumane to do so but seeing Drake, the great mercenary that nearly all authorities on Berk spoke highly of, stutter? It was just such a sight that I'd love to keep in mind.

The way Drake killed those Freaks still astonished me until now. He's used the most efficient fluid moves I've ever seen that I could've mistaken him for an assassin instead of a mercenary. The way he threw the knife _while_ staying calm? I mean, to be honest, those things looked intimidating.

The way he killed mercilessly without a second doubt or thought left me speechless, he even made sure to do it in the most brutal way possible. Such as jabbing his knife into it's jaw and breaking the other ones neck in one swift blow. Guaranteed the situation, maybe it was expected after all considering these things seem to want to infect him and if I were in his shoes I'd, without a doubt, do the same as well.

I couldn't help but think that he's right, that I lived here in Berk, safe and peaceful under a roof and sandwiched between four walls, protected from the harm and struggles outside. I kind of agreed as well that we were mostly inexperienced, especially compared to him. The people of Berk, despite being rough and aggressive and at times violent, still depended on the law enforcement for such things instead of handling it on their own. He did make a point as well that, outside, there were no laws. On the other hand, here on Berk, it's wrapped and built around laws, a few or so being removed or added.

All of this thinking got me to think of Harper, who we just left at the evacuation center. I missed him. I don't precisely know what I miss from him, whether it'd be the goofy grin he always held or the sarcastic puns he'd always deliver. He's one of the guys at our school who treated everyone like an equal despite being the butt of most jokes. He's talented, both excelling in drawing and being a mechanic. There even came a point where I grew jealous of him for always being top in class, since he's smart as well.

Sometimes I wonder why I left him. I like to think that it's the popularity since everyone called him _Hiccup_ but to be honest, up until this day, I still have no answer to my own question budded from my own doing.

During that time, he was very thin and small. I was half a foot taller than him. Then, when sophomore year came, that's when his grow spurt entered as well and alongside that, my crush for him. He became six foot tall, being one — if not, the only — tallest one in our batch. He grew leaner, and his was — _I have no words._ His shoulders grew broad as well and his hair much messier but none of that caught my attention.

It was his eyes.

To call his eyes as just _eyes_ weren't enough. They're like emeralds, and when I stare into them I can't help but feel at peace, as if my soul is safe by just simply staring at them. No one held the same looks Harper did.

Not until now, at least.

Could it be? That Drakeactually _is_ Harper?

No, of course not. Harper can barely to half of the things Drake can. The only things that aligned between the both of them were the physical descriptors; auburn hair, green eyes. Not to mention his hair was just equally as messy as Harper's, slight difference was it's a tad bit longer.

But then what Heather said came in mind.

 _Remember that five years in the wasteland could make you do things you'd regret._

It's been five years. Could it be possible that he's changed?

Drake's sarcastic attitude that made you want to kick him in the gut suddenly added confusion to me and I can't help but started to get deep in thought. The way he flicked off Sam and Eret was a bit similar to how Harper did to them back in high school, letting out the most insincere remarks just to tick off Sam and Eret.

All of this got me thinking.

What if Drake _is_ Harper?

I felt myself bump a bit hard onto Frank's shoulders. I mumbled an apology, noticing that we've stopped. We watched Drake stop and stare into his scope before muttering _thank gods_ underneath his breath.

"The settlement is just up ahead. I have a friend there who'll take us in for the night," Drake says before motioning us to follow.

The area was an abandoned stadium, the name of it I couldn't read due to how rusted and decayed the sign was. Drake continued moving while the rest of us stopped just a few inches from him. A few minutes later, a spotlight fell on us making us gasp in shock.

"What brings you to The Wing, stranger?" a feminine voice coated in a deep Russian accent interrogates.

"Your majesty," Drake acknowledges respectfully, "it's me, Drake. I've brought with me guests who are tired and would like to stay in for the meantime. We're tired and it's getting late outside."

"Ah, well, if it isn't the Night Fury. Throk, open the gates."

The gates slowly opened and slowly a city came into light. Banners that formed dragons were draped around the place.

Movement along the middle caught my attention, guards that lined up stepped aside for a fairly tall woman with short blonde hair that sported a black long sleeve covered by a trench coat that had drawings of Chinese dragons on it, topped off by pants in the shade of black as well. I noticed that she also wore a tactical vest.

"Ah, Drake. Great to see you taking in jobs for the defenders?" she asks, approaching Drake with her hands behind her back.

"No, Mala. I came here to rest since I got a job from Berk. A settlement just North from here," Drake answers.

"I see. Do you still need any supplies for your journey? Figured we still owe you some favors after doing those contracts for us," Mala offers.

Suddenly, Drake's stance changed and he spoke with edge in the tone of his voice, "Not all your contracts, your majesty. But anyways, may we see the inn?" he asks, changing the subject immediately.

I watched quietly as Mala's eyes widened in reaction to Drake's sudden shift of tone, taking the hint. "Of course, Drake, and the five of you over there. Welcome to the Citadel. We are the Defenders of The Wing," Mala tells us, giving us a welcoming smile that lasted for a second before turning her back towards us and walking away.


	9. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER EIGHT**_ : **YOU'RE A WANTED MAN**

The building that they were ushered to was fairly old and contained four floors. Vines crawled and grew within the cracks of the walls, some vines even growing much thicker than the others that it served almost as a second wall. There were other parts of the building that had much bigger cracks and instead of being fixed with cement, they were only left to be covered with scraps and pieces of galvanized iron and other rubbish such as plastic bags.

Harper leads the group in but before they could even reach the inside, their tracks were stopped as Harper was attacked with a bearhug from a very close friend of his.

"Drake!" Dmitri happily acknowledges, pulling back from the hug and giving Harper a hard pat on the back, "good to see you my old friend," he says, a warm smile creeping up his lips. Similar to Mala, he had a Russian accent, except his was much thicker making most of his words slurred and hard to understand.

"Good to see you, Dmitri," Harper says, his tone devoid of any emotion, not matching what he's just said towards his friend. "Um, these are my companions. Meet Heather, Frank, Cami, and Rebecca," he gestures towards the group, going from left to right. Heather and Cami just smiles while Frank and Rebecca wave enthusiastically at him.

"This is Dmitri Isacovich, a very close friend of mine," Harper introduces.

"A friend of Drake is a friend of mine. Anyways, are you here to stay the night?" Dmitri asks, expectantly looking at the group who just blinked back nervously at him, sharing glances with each other.

"Yes," Harper answers for them, "do you have at least six rooms for all of us?"

Harper _hoped_ that they did because God _forbid_ he shares a room with any of them.

Dmitri headed over to the reception, looking down before smiling and pulling up six keys, three on both his left and right hand, "Of course, comrade. Here are the keys! You are lucky we have no guests for tonight."

Harper chuckles at him, taking his key before facing the group, "We'll be at Reagans by tomorrow. Rest up since chances are we might start running back."

And with that, he leaves them alone. He pads towards the door just across them and slams the door shut, clearly sending a message that he doesn't want to be disturbed. They all blinked before looking at the Russian.

Dmitri lets out an awkward cough before distributing the keys to them one by one. Once he got to Cami, Cami asks a question, "is he always like this? Cold and...and untrusting," she gestures towards Harper's room.

Dmitri sighs, heading to the table before pouring vodka in a shot glass and with a frown, answers, "he was never like that. It is first time I see him like, er, this," he says, vaguely gesturing to the direction Harper's just gone through with his hand that was occupied with a shot glass, "but this is understandable. He has dark past. If you want to know then you go ask answers from him," he continues, but his tone much gloomier this time, as if he's silently saying that the said option isn't really what he'd suggest, "it is...not really my obligation to tell."

"Your rooms are at third floor. They are all together unless you want four wants to share room with each other?" Dmitri informs them before they could go to the staircase.

"Yes, me and Alek will share. Rebecca will go with Cami and, uh, Frank, you good with being on your own?"

"Yup, I'm good. Sleeping alone in a settlement in the middle of the wasteland? Never been better!" Frank jokes, nervously chuckling before heading upstairs, not bother to bid the others a goodnight.

Everyone just stared at him quizzically, watching him fade off into the distance.

 _What was his problem?_ Alek thought.

"Okay, Heather. You can keep room key while the two of you," he points towards Alek and Cami, "will have to give back the keys."

After Alek and Cami handed their keys to Dmitri, they bid him a goodnight and headed for their room.

Their room was fairly big, with a queen size bed in the middle of the room. On the side of it, sad two lamp shades that were already on, giving the room a dim light. Near the doorway was a mirror and in front of it was a cabinet that had towels on top of it. Knick knacks and several other decorations were hung all over the room to give it some sort life, a bit of a familiar vibe to it as Alek feels as of the moment.

Across their bed was a door to the bathroom, to which Heather quickly ran into claiming she's been holding it for hours now. Alek just chuckles and lunges herself on the bed, feeling the soft duvet on the tip of her fingertips. She sighs, feeling at peace only to jump up in the surprise when the door bursted open and in came in a very excited Rebecca and Cami. They bounced up and down the bed — thankfully without their shoes on — making Alek groan.

"Have you guys ever heard of knocking?" Alek suggests, putting a clenched fist up to imitate knocking on a door in order to emphasize her suggestion. Her serious face then contorts into one of joy as she giggles along with them.

"Well, have you ever heard of locking?" Rebecca retorts, raising her hand and pretending to lock and invisible door knob in the air. They all busted out laughing before laying on the bed, settling in a comfortable position.

"What are you guys doing here?" Heather asks, emerging out of the bathroom as she fixes her hair, "we need to rest up. Who knows what's in that hospital? And the last thing I want is to be stuck in an abandoned one," she positions herself in between Cami and Alek, staring up at the two girls who perched their chins on their palms.

"Relax, sister. It's just ten in the evening. We can have an hour of girl-time then after that we can pass out. Besides, someone here has a thing for our merc," Cami teasingly says, suggestively looking at Alek who just rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Oh yeah," Heather concedes, making Alek groan even more realizing that she'll be ganged up over this, "Alek couldn't stop staring at him. I mean, I wouldn't blame you, though. He _is_ kind of hot."

A blush slowly crept onto Alek's cheek, giving it a light tint of red making her stare down in embarrassment at her own body betraying her.

"Oh, wow! Now she's blushing. I _knew_ you weren't a lesbian," Rebecca jokes and in return receives a punch on the side from Alek.

"Owww," Rebecca groans, clutching her side, "look, you're _in_ denial, Alek. The sooner you accept, the better," she teases further.

"I don't have a thing for that sarcastic bastard!" Alek exclaims, but it didn't come out as convincing as she wanted it to be and silently cursed herself for that.

The girls just quietly stared at her, a smirk plastered on their faces irking Alek completely.

"Okay! Fine! Well, he _is_ attractive and I do find him handsome myself," Alek admits, feeling defeated as they all shared smiles to each other.

"Case closed," Rebecca says in an authoritative tone, pretending to close a book by making her palms touch each other.

"But it's not like he'll have a thing for me," Alek says in a bit of a sad tone that even she can't believe to be mustering up. She sounded hopeless, and, hated to admit it, but felt hopeless as well too.

"Who knows? Maybe he already has a girlfriend who does the same thing as he does," she adds on, wishing that it'd cover up the fact that she's a bit crestfallen, both at the idea of him lacking interest in her and him already having a partner.

"Alek," Heather coos, "I saw the way he stared at you. He just...kept staring at your eyes, finding himself in some sort of...of trance. I even helped him snap out of it and you should've seen the color of his ears! They were bright red and-"

"Gee guys, thanks for the help but really you don't ha-"

"Face it, Alek! He has a thing for you," Heather cuts her off, waving her hands up frantically in the air. Alek groaned and shoved her face face flat onto the bed, making sure to cover up the blush that crept up her cheeks that would surely be the next butt of the jokes her friends probably already have in mind.

Their loud laughter immediately went to a halt when they heard gunshots echo through the hallway. They all rushed out and headed into their rooms, taking whatever weapon they needed before heading back out to the source of the sound. Alek got her AR-15, cocking the rifle before kicking open the door, Heather following suit with a tomahawk in hand. They came across Frank who just got out of his room, his hair flying in different directions as he hastily heald his handgun up in a defensive manner.

Two dead bodies were the first thing that mingled to their line of sight. One sat upright on the wall, his eyes wide as blood from the wound on his forehead dribbled onto his nose. The wound was still fresh, seemingly to be caused by a gunshot. A few steps from him was a man who lazily slumped on the couch, his blood splattered all over both on the painting and on the couch.

Soft whimpering sounds could be heard from the man that Harper held firmly to the counter. Just a few inches above his skull situated a knife, ready to plunge into him if he ever ticks Harper off.

"For the last fucking time! _Who_ the _fuck_ sent _you_?" Harper angrily asks, applying more pressure onto the man's skull making him tremble underneath his grasp.

"Okay! Okay! Okay!" the man panics, finally giving in, "he was a-...he was a- he was a guy, alright? A really big guy. He's bald as well. He's with another guy that kinda looks like him but speaks in a much more, er... _how do you say_.."

"In a much more _what_?" Harper grits out, staring at the man hardly.

"Eloquent! Eloquent!" he screeches, "in a much more eloquent way. That's all I know!"

"Now, why did they send you?" Harper asks, pressing pressure onto his neck making him yelp out in pain.

"He said he wanted you dead because you're a liability," he hurriedly says, "you need to be removed from their operations that's all I know! Now please let me go-" but before he could even react, Harper has already plunged the knife into his skull, slowly dragging it down to his neck, watching blood ooze out and coat the metal.

Harper lets go of the body, watching it fall limp onto the floor. He sighs before slumping his shoulders and leaning onto the desk.

He shifts his gaze towards the doorway, seeing Dmitri with Throk along with four other guards trailing behind them with M4's in hand approaching him.

"Drake, this better be good," Throk carefully says, eyeing the dead bodies around the room. "You said you were clean."

"Yeah," he drags on, "about that.. _no_. Looks like that Grimborns want me dead. _Again_."

He absentmindedly looked onto his sleeve, seeing a red spot. Touching it, he then realized that it wasn't a design but rather blood from a bleeding wound. He flinches when he feels the pain shoot through him. Throk sees this reaction and immediately helps in holding him upright.

"We'll see if the doctor is available. In the meantime, the four of you close up this lobby. I don't want anyone, especially the queen, panicking. Now, _get moving_ ," Throk orders, watching his men scramble to fix the tarnished area up.

The gang were in a state of shock, realizing the fact that Harper did this by himself. He just kills the men in cold blood right in front of them. Dmitri sees this and ushers them to go to sleep before approaching Harper.

As the group went back to their respective rooms, they all had the same question in mind.

 _Who the hell wanted Drake dead?_

 **HARPER'S P.O.V**

 _A FEW MINUTES BEFORE_

"We'll be at Reagans tomorrow. Rest up since chances are we might start running back," I say, waiting for any reactions before slamming the door shut. My feet led me to my bed, but something stopped me in my tracks.

Cami's question.

"Is he always like this? Cold and untrusting?"

I tensed up at the question, leaning closer to the door to get a better answer from whoevers that questioned was directed to.

From the looks of it, it was towards Dmitri.

I hear a sigh fall from Dmitri's lips and right after it came answer. I smiled, thankful that he respected my privacy.

Finally, I heard footsteps descending down the hall until they faded away and all that's left were soft vibrations. Truth be told, I wasn't going to sleep. I shuffled in my gear, shifting it a little bit till I was comfortable before peeking through my peep-hole, checking if there was anyone else left outside.

It was empty out there, the hall only lit by the light that seeped in through the cracks of the already old walls alongside with a couple of broken light bulbs. I gave it five more seconds before opening my door and slowly tiptoeing my way out.

I only wanted to do a couple of things tonight. One is to fulfill a favor Mala's asked and in return, receive a vehicle for tomorrow's trip and two is to catch up with Dmitri about any rumors or significant reports from the faction I used to apart of. Either of which can come first but I did hope that I could finish the first one earlier.

Air immediately left my lungs when I felt someone hurl me over into a dimly lit room.

Dmitri breathed heavily, clutching my shoulders tighter and tighter as he exhaled while he looked me up and down, scrutinizing me as if I was someone he's never met before.

Looks like the latter in my to-do list will come first tonight.

"The fuck are you doing here?" he sneers, taking me by surprise. My eyebrows scrunched in confusion as I tilted my head, wondering what he's yapping about.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, only be shushed and received an aggressive _shhhh_ for an answer.

His tongue dragged out and licked his bottom lip, "people want you dead, Drake. The Hunters, The Outcast, The Berzerkers and the other factions you've caused problems with. They all want you dead."

I spaced out, staring at the bed that just sat behind him. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something only for Dmitri to beat me to it.

"Drake, people all the way from Manhattan want you dead. They call themselves the dragons, or something," he mutters the last part, waving his hand vaguely as his voice faltered.

My eyes grew wide upon hearing this. They're after me. _Shit._ I thought Thuggory convinced them that I was dead. Guess like words spread around like wildfire.

Maybe they had second thoughts when the news got to them?

"Also I heard some rumors that had something to do with the flamethrowers. They're moving to California from New York," he adds, "you were at New York, my friend. Why the hell were they as well?"

"They're The Cleaners, sanitation inspectors or experts trying to wipe out the disease. They do this by burning plant life down, hence why New York is covered in ashes. They're one of the reasons why Manhattan was thought to be abandoned but there are still survivors there."

He nodded, processing the information before opening his mouth to speak. But, this time, I beat him to it.

"Are you sure The Dragons want _me_ gone?"

Dmitri nods eagerly, "yes, I am certain, friend. But, I have to know why you've gone rogue?"

A knock on the reception table cuts me off. Dmitri excuses himself, slinking his way out. I peeked through crack, checking to see who's outside.

Three men fell in my line of vision, all having the same gun, a _Kriss Vector,_ and all wearing the same gear that seemed to have been purchased from the black market. They were all positioned at different places in the lobby. One at the staircase, the other at the doorway, and the last at the reception, speaking to Dmitri.

"How may I help you?" Dmitri politely inquires, tapping the table as he awaited for a response.

"Yes, did someone go in here? He's," he pauses and hesitates, eyeing Dmitri up and down with a finger to his lips, in thought, "an inch taller than you. He had auburn hair and green eyes. Also, he's scrawny," I hear the man ask, making Dmitri's eyes widen to the size of golfballs.

Fuck, _no._

The atmosphere shifted, and suddenly Dmitri didn't look so confident anymore. His posture slouched, his fingers fumbled lazily with each other, his shoulders tense and his voice turning an octave higher as he lets out his response, "uh, er….. _no._ No. No, no, no. No person that fits that description came in here today."

Come on, man. Hold your _fucking_ stance.

The man at the reception turned around slowly, locking gazes with the other man at the door. After a beat, the sound of something being locked travelled through the room. This was then followed by a gun being pulled out and aimed specifically at Dmitri.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Ivan? Where is _he_? The sooner you answer the sooner we'll leave. No trouble whatsoever," the man at the reception table demanded, slapping his hand on the cold marble countertop which elicited a flinch from Dmitri.

"You _are_ already causing enough trouble in my establishment!" Dmitri retorts, staring angrily at the guy. Quickly, he grasped the man's hands and aimed the gun towards his companion nearby the staircase. He fell with a thud, his eyes still wide open as he rolled down the last few steps.

I slammed the door open and shot the other guy at the doorway, his blood splattering over the paintings hung on the walls near him. He clutched his wound and fell onto the couch, painting it with his blood as well.

I ran back to Dmitri and caught him pinning down the guy at his desk. I took Dmitri's placed and ordered him to call for guards. As he ran out, I eyed the guy up and down, feeling him struggle under my hold. For each squirmed he'd do I made sure to add even much more pressure.

"You fucked Night Fury. _F-U-C-K._ Once Viktor gets you, you'll be back with Drago. I heard what you did back in Manhattan. You think that crazed lunatic won't stop finding you?" the hired gun mocks, staring at me warily.

"You had to ask," I mocked back, pulling my knife out and hovering it above his skull, "Who sent you?" I calmly ask, only to receive an attempt to spat on.

"You ain't going to get through me, _boy,"_ he sourly says, which lead me to kick his shin and jab the knife in his leg. He lets out a hoarse scream at the act, gritting his teeth in pain as he squirms even more than before. Slowly, I pulled the knife out and replaced it with my finger, feeling the new wound that situated on his shin.

"Are you gonna talk now?" I ask again, watching and waiting for his reaction. Still, nothing. I growled and pushed all four of my fingers inside this time, only leaving my thumb out to gently caress the untouched skin of his leg. I then wrapped my thumb around his shin, curving the four fingers inside along as well, and squeezed what I could making howl in pain, his yells of despair echoing off the walls.

For every second of silence, I squeezed harder and felt blood ooze out.

"Let's try this again. _Who_ the fuck sent you?" I growled, squeezing harder, harder than the last few moments ago that I felt the flesh slowly slide off his body.

"Okay! Okay! Okay!" he gives in, "it was a guy. Really big, also bald. He has t-t-this-this weird accent and-and he also had another guy with him! One who sounded smart, sounded _really_ smart, and wise. Alright! That's all I know!" he screams hurriedly, trying to wriggle himself out of my grasp.

Well, I guess that's all I can get.

Carelessly, I buried my knife in the middle of his head, feeling his body slowly go limp as I twisted the knife and made it to ballet, _if that was possible._ I left my knife there, along with his body before slumping on the reception table in exhaustion.

A few minutes after, I'm met with the gang, Throk with several guards, Dmitri and five pair of concerned eyes, six even if I'm not mistaken but it was hard to tell when it came to Throk.

"Drake, this better be good. You said you're clean," Throk says, eyeing me warily before pulling me up and slinging his arms around me to help me walk.

My side ached with pain. I moved my hands toward the source of the pain only to gasp when my eyes are met with blood.

"How the fuck did I get shot?" I asked, a bit shocked. I surprisingly didn't feel it much, up until now. Despite the situation, I chuckled.

"We'll see if the doctor is available. The three of you close up this lobby. I don't need a mass panic to break through, especially to the queen. Now, get moving!" Throk orders as I watched his men scramble. They fell out of my sight as he lead me out the building and into a room that gave me the medical attention I needed.


	10. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER NINE**_ : **IT'S BETTER IF THE PAST IS BURIED**

 **HARPER'S POV**

As soon as I was brought to the clinic, a doctor immediately came and patched me up, stitched my wounds, even gave me a couple of painkillers which I rejected by pulling out my flask and taking a swig from whatevers inside it. I always kept it inside my pocket, prepared for things like these. I watch him sigh before giving me prescriptions to take before I go back to doing whatever job I did.

In other terms, a fight. Something violent, I guess.

I mumbled out a _thanks,_ walking back to the inn. By now the area's probably been tidied up. All I needed to do now was get a fifteen minute nap or so and fulfill the favor Mala's put upon me. The moment I got there, instead of seeing the guards, or whoever did the cleaning around here, I'm met with Mala who sat on the couch that was now perfectly clean and free of any stain of blood, and beside her stood Throk.

"Your majesty," I greet her, bending down just a bit to show my respect. An explanation was already prepared, ready to slip out my throat but instead it was paused by the simple gesture of her hand.

"Harper Haddock," she says, saying each word carefully, letting her tongue roll around the letters smoothly as she eyes me down, my eyes wide with what I've just heard.

"How long have you been using Drake and not your real name?" she follows up, the crease between her eyebrows deepening as she waits for a response.

I clenched my fists and bit my bottom lip, panic coursing through me as I tried to think of a good answer to a question I thought I took precautions with and made sure was buried, never to be asked or inquired by anyone.

"I-I..I...h-how-how? How did you find out?" I stutter, my breathing erratic as a smile stretches across her lips.

 _Fuck_ , if the gang knew who I _actually_ am they'd tell dad.

"Remember, Harper Haddock, I am a director in a C.I.A branch here in the United States. I might be Russian in blood but I'm American in nature."

"But how did you find out about my identity?" I ask, completely dismissing what she's just said, " _I mean,_ all power _and_ satellites around the world have been shut down after the outbreak," I reason, not understanding nor grasping how she's got to crack out info in a place, time – _or whatever the fuck anyone would consider_ – such as this.

"Now, Harper," she coos, but that didn't do anything to help calm me. "not the whole world. Only us," she stares at me for a moment, letting me process the words. She continues after a beat, "we are the only area, the United States, Canada, Mexico and Brazil. All of North and South America has been infected by the disease. Not Europe, Africa and Asia, though."

"How?"

"The information, according to what the Union said, came from a lab in Mexico, said that there's a military black site only known as _Gladiator 7._ Now, some sort of accident happened involving a miscalculation on the virus, causing it to mutate the plants in the lobby. Soon, after they've lost all communication in the lab, the government wanted the site erased and to be classified as a failure."

"How did you get communication if all of America has no contact with the outside world and how to do you know the plague didn't spread all across Europe?" questions upon questions left my mouth, I couldn't help but feel so curious about the situation, about what she's done to get out a lot of information, including the name I've grown out of.

"There's a relay tower not far from here. In the meantime, we are trying to ask for assistance. As for the plague, they said it's not air-based, neither is it water-based but rather land-based, so once a land is infected by the disease, all of the land is automatically infected. However, it's still viral to those infected but luckily the Union and the UN saw this coming and immediately shut down all borders and ports in all parts of Europe, Asia and Africa."

"Why are you telling me all this?" obviously it was because I was asking but for the most part she seemed encouraging and I _really_ wanted to know why. I wanted her to answer questions I still haven't thought of.

Her smiles from awhile ago quickly faded, a serious one taking place. "I know about your past, Harper Haddock. I know the group you joined was supposed to save what's left of humanity. And I know why you went rogue-" I gasped, feeling my chest tighten at those words. I didn't really mean to cut Mala off, but Mala immediately caught on to my distressed look and quickly spoke, " _which,"_ she emphasizes, "I'll keep a secret in return of you keeping what just shared to yourself. Did I make myself clear?"

I nod my head, "I swear. Now, I have some favors to ask."

She smiles, "ask away."

"Do you have any spare oxygen tanks lying around that I could bring back to Berk?" I ask, my fingers fumbling with themselves as I anticipated for Mala's answer.

"What do you need them for?"

 _Sigh._

"My mother is dying, or _will_ die soon. If I don't get the oxygen tank to her by tomorrow, chances are she won't make it. That's why I took the job for my mother, not for my father or the people whom I took with me," I explain, Mala's eyes glinted with a hint of sadness as she faced Throk, who similarly enough, looked just as sad.

"I'm sorry, Harper. We used the last tank yesterday and I'm afraid you're on your own," I felt air rush out of my lungs, I inhaled but it didn't make things any better, not until she responded at least, "but, I'm willing to give a spare vehicle and some supplies on your journey to Reagan's."

It didn't make the pain me ache any lesser, but at least hearing that would do and numb it for a bit. I nodded towards her direction, far too sad to even bother move my lips and mutter out a _thanks,_ before wordlessly padding towards my room, hoping for the best that my mother would make it.

—

Sun poured through the tiny slit the curtain created, letting light in and hit Alek directly on the face, waking her up. She stretched her limbs, making sure to not stretch so much and hit Heather _hard_ , but stretch enough to hit her lightly.

The only problem was Heather wasn't at her side.

And neither was her pack.

Alek just shrugged and assumed that she must've went downstairs, already with the gang. She quickly got ready, grabbing her belongings and the key before heading downstairs.

She drank in the lobby's clean state, sighing in relief when she sees that there were no more blood stains on places where it used to be on, and there were no more dead bodies on the lino either. Her eyes trailed over the room before landing onto the gang that lazily sat on the couch.

Rebecca picking at something on her teeth, Frank reading some book about invertebrates, his book about botany lazily held between his body and arm, Cami curling and uncurling her hair with an arrow, Heather just watching Cami and lastly, Harper, playing with his knife that he seem to love so dearly.

Cami was the first to notice Alek and when she realizes that it's only her who sees Alek, she elbows the person who sat next to her to the left, which was Heather. Heather let's out a yelp of surprise, rubbing her sore side while glaring at Cami. Cami rolls her eyes, nodding up ahead. Heather follows her gaze, her eyes landing on Alek who stood awkwardly, her hand running up and down her arm as she fiddled with her bag's strap.

Heather clears her throat, catching everyones attention, "Hey, Alek," she says, which Alek kind of took as a signal to _come here_ because she's on her feet, making her way towards them. When she stood near them, Heather just gives her a nod of approval before clearing her throat again.

"Drake, she's here. So, how are we gonna get to the hospital?" she asks. The moment the question was out, everyone stopped what they're doing. Rebecca stopped picking at something in between her teeth, Frank closed his book, slipping a finger in between pages sixty-four and sixty-five, staring quietly at Harper, and all of the girls – _excluding Rebecca who found herself busy yet again with her teeth_ – waited for a response.

Harper sheathed his knife, glared at Alek for being late only for his eyes to soften for a moment before settling back to the stone cold gaze they held minutes ago.

"I got Mala to get us a vehicle, along with some guns, ammo, and a couple of meds. It's parked by the gate, come, let's go we're running out of time," Harper urges, looking rather impatient as he casted another annoyed glance at the gang and headed out, leaving them to get ready.

Alek shrugs off what happened just a few minutes ago and instead headed towards her group of friends who seem to be staring at her as though they've seen a ghost.

"Um, why do you guys look like you've seen a ghost?" she asks, ending it with a chuckle but even that didn't help to ease the disoriented look that was plastered all over their faces, "what did I miss?"

She inspects closer and realizes that they all had a tinge of light pink on their cheeks. They were blushing, which made her eyebrows dip together in confusion as to why they were doing so.

She shoots another question, "You guys alright?" she raises a hand and waves it in front of them, "why are you all blushing?"

They gave each other glances that seem to hold an emotion Alek couldn't read. They muttered Frank to leave, and Frank gladly did so, muttering something under his breath about how demanding they were before disappearing behind the door, leaving them behind with a very confused Alek who's now being pulled towards the couch by Rebecca.

Rebecca quickly whips out her phone and scrolls through her photos, shocking Alek.

"Ruff, why do you still have your phone? We're not sup-"

The moment Rebecca stops on a certain photo, Alek's breath hitched, her eyes wide as she scanned the photograph behind the cracked screen.

It was a photo of Harper, his bare back exposed and facing them, beads of sweat rolling off of it. His hands were occupied by weights, making his arms blurred a tad bit, giving Alek the slight idea that this must've been taken when Harper was working out, or doing whatever he did to stay in shape. The only thing that covered him up were a pair of pants, but that didn't do anything to stop the blush from creeping up Alek's cheeks.

Unintentionally, Alek finds her finger tracing the screen until it swiped to the left, seeing another photo of Harper working out. She kept swiping and swiping until there was nothing left for her to see. They were all similar, except the only difference was his hands would either blurrily go up and down, carrying the weights.

She shoves Rebecca's phone back to her, earning a smirk from Rebecca as she sends a wink towards the two girls who towered over them on the couch.

"Why would you show me that?" Alek asks, an exasperated tone coating her question as the three girls sent unnerving glances towards each other.

"Told you she'll get the same reaction," she hears Heather whisper to Cami. Her hand flew and playfully slapped Heather's arm, making Heather laugh hard. Her scowl only deepens.

"How? _How_! How did you even manage to _see_ him doing.." she trails off, frantically trying to find the right word before screaming, with an accusatory finger pointed at Rebecca's pocketed phone, " _that_!"

Cami waves her hand in the air, as if to signal she'll answer, "you see, we all woke up to a sound, some sort of grunting coming from the fourth floor. It kind of made us wonder why you didn't wake up because of it since, you know, your father basically taught you hunting skills or whatever category thay includ-"

Alek interrupts by mumbling something with regards to practicing picking up noise easily.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Cami says, dismissing her before continuing, "anyways. we got up and tried to find the source of the noise. During our search we found two things, first was a dining area with a balcony near it and the second was a gym. Eventually, we discovered that the noise was coming from the latter and headed for that. We all agreed on peeking and saw...that," Cami finishes, pointing at Rebecca's pocketed phone as well.

" _And_ how long did you guys stare at him by the doorway?" Alek asks in disbelief, her arms crossed as she awaits a response from her friends.

"Uuuh," Rebecca stutters, a smile stretching across her lips and showcasing her teeth that was now free of debris or whatsoever that she was nitpicking out awhile ago.

"Until he caught us," Heather answers for Rebecca, making Alek gasp. "Look!" she quickly covers up, but it didn't do much of work to change Alek's expression, "we were basically fantasizing, okay? Don't blame us. Anyways, he caught us when he got out of the bathroom after wearing his gear. That's why we were relatively quiet when you got here."

Alek groans, feeling second hand embarrassment at what just happened, "can we just – _I don't know_ – pretend we didn't see that? Let's go. Drake is waiting for us, and the same goes as well for Mrs. Haddock."

The atmosphere immediately shifts at the sudden mention of her name. The four girls' faces shifted into ones of uneasiness as they thought of how the chief's wife is doing right now. They quickly got out, only to be met with a very impatient looking Harper who tapped his foot on the ground.

"Alright," he acknowledges, "follow me. We'll be at Reagan's in an hour, so best expect some Freaks up ahead. Mala got us a rundown SUV," he gestures towards a car up ahead. It wasn't really in that much of a bad shape, but it wasn't looking good enough to fit in the category of good either, "it'll do."

"Once we get there I'll tell what each of you will do," he says, gesturing for them to follow him. They walked up until they reached the gate, where Throk stood alongside with a couple of guards who busied themselves with the crates they were picking up from the ground and placing at the back compartment.

"Throk, what are your men doing?" Harper asks, watching the last one of the boxes being placed before the door of the car was slammed shut, a bit too hardly which made him wince.

"Her majesty wanted to give you ammunition and some other essentials needed for your journey. We already placed armor plating in front of the SUV," Throk reassures and Harper sighs in relief upon hearing what he's just said.

"Remember what the queen said, Drake," Throk reminds him and Harper nods curtly at this. Throk hands him the keys and they got out of there immediately.

The trip so far wasn't that bad, except for the fact that Harper had to run over a couple of Freaks that were blocking the way which also disgusted the gang. Half of them couldn't stomach this – especially Frank – so eventually at one point they had to slow down and take a break while Frank opens the window and empties his stomach of breakfast and fear.

The silent car ride was interrupted by multiple shots coming from the car that trailed behind them. Alek was the first to notice this, then followed by Harper who instantly steps on the gas, taking a sharp turn before stopping.

"Well, don't just fucking stare! Shoot!" he yells, speeding up and going through the open streets of California. The cars did the same thing followed by opening fire at the SUV.

Everyone instinctively ducked, dodging the bullets that penetrated through the glass and disrupted the metal that kept the car together. Harper groans and pulls out a MP5 from the seat beside him before opening the window and shooting back at the opponent, his other hand gripping the steering wheel tightly as he attempts to multitask.

Alek got up and cocks her rifle, angling it out of the window and accompanies Harper, shooting back at the cars outside as well. Heather follows, taking the left window while Cami and Rebecca took the window at the back of the car and shot through it.

One of the cars sped up and drove beside the SUV, trying to ram it off the road. Harper notices this and pushes the breaks down, the car sharply stopping making the gang launch back and forth, regretting on not wearing a seatbelt as they felt the pain of the aftermath of their mistake shoot through them.

Harper rammed the other car with his as hard as could, watching it topple over and flop onto the other side of the road, making it lose it's balance and crash at the nearby building.

Another pursuer replaced the already down car, but this time, the moment they got close they got their guns out and readied to fire the SUV.

"Hang on!" Harper yells, speeding up and going in front of the car. He took a right turn and headed for the abandoned checkpoint near the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center, stopping once he finally finds a safe enough spot before hopping out, bringing out his Springfield from his back, breathing slowly as he aims for the driver's seat.

He exhales and inhales slowly as he waits for the car to come close enough.

His eyes fluttered close as he waited for the right time, ignoring the pleads and yells of the group from behind as he pulls the trigger, followed by the sound of a loud ear piercing screech from the distance as the car crashed into a Humvee. He got out, grabbing the Mp5 then slammed the door, ignoring the cries of "What are you doing!?".

Harper sprays a few shots at the backseat, pinning down a few of the passengers who made a nimble attempt at escaping along with the few others who actually got out. He walks up towards the window upfront, and while doing so he reloaded his gun and switched the mag since this one was taped together. The barrel of his gun was placed inside the small panel, Harper then pulls the trigger after a beat. The bullet ricocheted inside the car as a satisfied smile crept up Harper's face.

He opens the door and is met by two dead men. He sighs, dragging both deceased bodies and out inspecting them, making them out to be an Outcast. He notices that they wore prison clothes, except there were a few altercations for it. Above the clothes were jackets and helmets that seem to belong to the police, alongside with other gear that would usually be used by the police as well.

He continues inspecting them, the smile on his face growing as he realizes that one of them had a Colt M4A1 with a tactical grip and a red dot sight. Tilting the weapon and inspecting it, he checks the barrel and is pleased to see that it had a suppressor on as well. He then looks around and searches for any magazines the Outcasts were carrying, opening several pockets' and vests. He ended up with a total amount of five mags.

Harper takes two of them and places the rest in the pocket of his vest. He slings rifle and makes sure it's secure before heading back to the group. They stared at him with the same looked they'd usually do, a bit awestruck and maybe impressed as well, Harper wasn't really quite sure. He just shrugs this off and heads for the hospital instead.

The entrance was sealed down with shutters and beside it, just a little bit to the left, slumped a Freaks already decaying torso accompanied by several decomposing bodies that belonged to both civilians and national guards.

Body bags that were placed in a pile near an ambulance fell into his line of vision as he ushers the gang to follow up behind him and keep their guards up. His eyes scanned the place, landing on a dump truck that parked beside a window that was conveniently open.

"Right there. Come on, let's see if there's an oxygen tank and get the Hel out of here as soon as possible," Harper says.

"I need Frank, Heather, and Rebecca to stay out there," Harper orders in a firm tone, handing Frank a walkie talkie, "if anything happens, call us. We'll be right here."

And with that, the three of them stayed while Harper, Cami and Alek went with him, climbing up the dump truck. They failed to notice that beside it sat a pile of Freaks along with plants and body bags burnt to ashes. The others still in the process of being toasted.

"Looks like we've got more of them coming to the dead zone. Make sure you've disposed of them," a man wearing a reflective vest, a hat, and a gas mask says to the radio he clutches close to his mouth. He turns around and looks at the man behind him, motioning to the SUV along with other men.

They immediately moved forward as flames came up behind them.

They continued walking forward with their reflective vest, gas masks, and propane tanks strapped around them alongside their makeshift flamethrowers, firing around without a single care in the world as they moved forward, ignoring the flames and wisps of fire that crackled behind them.


	11. Chapter 10

_**CHAPTER TEN**_ : **WE MUST CLEANSE THIS WORLD**

 **HARPER'S POV**

The hospital's hallway was eerily quiet, scattered papers of different patients consulted illnesses fluttered and lightly flew around the room as we walked through the vast emptiness as quiet as we could. A window that's broke open gave us leverage to peek in to the first room that came in view, my hopes high as I search for an oxygen tank ready to be used. I only felt disappointment plummet deep within me when I found none.

We moved further, stopping in our tracks from time to time as I silence the girls and looked around the place. It dawned on me that this hospital was a quarantine zone.

"Shit," I mutter as I walked back to the girls who looked as worried as I did. Alek took notice of this and quickly questioned it.

"What's the matter?"

"We have a problem. You guys can't come with me," I started, watching their facial expressions contort in confusion.

"Why not?" Cami asks after a beat, Alek nodding along to her question, wondering the same thing as well.

"Look," I say, pointing to the scene in front of us, "there's a quarantine zone up ahead, meaning they're infected carriers. Even if the disease isn't air based, those things carry spores which automatically deems them as carriers of the disease," I explain but that didn't seem to clear up anything at all since the confused look on their faces haven't changed, not even a bit.

Alek tilts her head and licks her bottom lip before eyeing the door up ahead much more closely now, Cami sneaking up behind her to take a look as well.

"FEMA studied them, tried to find a cure even but it seems that they've failed," I added on with a sigh, wishing this time that they'd get the hit.

"Really badly, might I add," I commented with a chuckle and, still, I receive nothing but silence that seemed to mingle with confusion.

Alek seems to have gotten it, but her confused expression still stood. I gave up, sighing as I got a filter from my pack and connecting it to my mask. "Unless you guys have a gas mask," I proclaim, emphasizing my statement by slightly moving the gas mask I was fixing on me, "then you can come with me. If not, both of you should just go back to the car while I get the oxygen tank myself."

Cami looked at Alek's direction, her hand in her pack as she pulls out a gas mask and hands it to her, "You take it, Alek. You have more experience when it comes to this. I'll go back to the group and help keep watch with them. Good luck to the two of you," and after that, she walks away, her back facing us as she slowly shrunk from the distance, her figure disappearing.

Alek watched her slowly disappear before eyeing the pack in her hands. She hastily wore the borrowed gas mask and urges me to go up ahead while she adjusts it along the way.

We've already scanned from room to room, hoping to find any oxygen tank that was available for use but only ended up empty handed until we reached the quarantine area.

Tapes that had danger and other senseless warnings plastered over them did a minimal yet messy attempt of covering the place and behind the tapes were dirty white curtains, serving as last layers of protection from what's behind the area.

I glanced quickly at Alek, making sure that she's alright and not feeling queasy or anything. She seems to notice this and raises a thumbs up. Our movements grew quieter after that, and we did everything in our will to try and make our breathing as soft as possible. I ordered Alek to hover her finger above the trigger, just incase someone barges in and charges at us.

Alek both gulped and gasped at the horrifying sight laid in front of us. Multiple dead bodies, either decaying or mutilated, were spread all over the place. The mutilation must've been the doing of the Freaks. Bile rises up my throat as I eye the dead bodies that had plants growing in places I never even knew were possible to be inhabited. Hell, even a thick vein of what seemed to be a newly growing plant stuck out a nurses eyeball.

I tried my best not to hunch over and empty my stomach, and I know Alek tried too.

Immediately, we scurried away and headed for the second corridor and searched for a reception desk. Alek quickly got behind it and searched for a map while I headed out and checked each rooms, desperately trying to find an oxygen tank.

I eyed the last door frame, silently hoping that this would have what I needed. Slowly, I entered the room, my eyes taking in the scorch marks that ran on the floor, some ending by the dead bodies of Freaks and others by ashes of what I assumed to be Freaks as well.

"Military must have burned the carriers," I mutter to myself, walking over to the other side while trying my best to avoid stepping on the bodies who failed to be burnt.

After successfully trying to avoid multiple bodies, I sighed in relief only to jerk back when I felt a hand land on my shoulder. Instinctively, I turned around and quickly retaliated by taking the hand, spinning said person around, and pinning them against the wall with a knife by their throat. My eyes widened when I saw the person and realized that it was just Alek.

A very, very, pissed Alek.

"You were about to kill me. The hell," Alek angrily says, her teeth gritting together as her fists clenched by her side. She then raises an accusing finger at me before crossing her arms together.

I gulped, my nerves wracking at thought of me actually ending up killing her or at least wounding her.

Shit.

"Well," I reasoned, "you could have at least called my name, you know? This is not a public gathering anymore. I have to stay alert at all times, Hofferson," I retorted, crossing my arms as well. I tried to look as intimidating as possible, but I felt myself faltering when I saw her eyes soften and her shoulders slump a bit.

"Look, I'm sorry for almost killing you," I give in, watching her gloomy look instantly turn a bit bright.

"Same," she says, only to blurt out yet another sentence to cover up her vague response, "Sorry for, well, you know, taking you by surprise." She smiles and tucks her bangs behind her ears, her voice soft as she shifts her weight from her left foot to the right, eyes not meeting mine but instead only focused on the cold, tiled floor.

Is she nervous?

"Well, uh..." I stutter, finding myself a bit nervous as well as I clasp my hands together and stare behind her, "we..w-we should get going then?"

"Oh, right," she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat before repeating herself, "Right. Yes. Lead the way," Alek gestures toward the hallway ahead of her as I take the lead and feel her trail behind.

Why are we both stuttering? As far as I'm aware, Alek Hofferson does not stutter. Never in my lifetime – not until now, at least – had I seen her as a shy girl. I always saw her as this independent, feisty, yet beautiful, and strong Valkyrie that's been sculpted perfectly by the gods themselves.

Aside from that, I also kept relaying on this hopeless fantasy that there would always be a Harper and Alek. Often, I would replay that in my head, imagining just the two of us doing different things that perhaps others haven't, and it was dumb.

The radio chatter coming from up ahead snapped me out of my deluded fantasy. Without a warning, I pushed Alek to the wall and immediately placed my hand on her mouth before she can even complain or ask.

I tilted my head to the doorway, checking to see what was there and, shit, Dmitri was right, there were a shit ton of cleaners here. No wonder there were piles of ashes in almost every room we've entered.

There's too many of them, automatically deeming the two of us in the current situation outnumbered. Four of them held flamethrowers while the rest were just your typical cleaners. One thing both parties shared in common was that they held military or civilian grade weapons close.

One man in particular caught my attention. I watch as he steps forward, a radio held tightly in his grasp as he sends out orders for the others to do. They all listen intently before nodding and getting back to work or starting to work on whatever he ordered on being done.

They'd pile up the bodies, usually stopping at a significant amount, before burning them which made me question how the hospital even stood after this.

We really needed to find an oxygen tank, and fast.

Alek shifted beside me, taking a glimpse at whatever I was looking at only for me to pull her back aggressively when a cleaner looks at our way.

Suddenly, footsteps headed for our direction could be heard. I motion for Alek to move far back the wall as I got my knife out, raising it high enough and waited for the cleaner to emerge from wherever he was coming from. Once he came into view, I pulled him to my side and slammed him against the wall, he lazily shook his head, trying to get conscious only to be knocked back when I use the butt of my knife to punch him square in the face. He steps back a little, staggered, only to squeak out in pain when my knife plunges itself into his chest. He loses the balance he was trying to keep as he tries to pry me off of him. I chuckled before removing his mask and plunging my knife into his jaw, letting the knife drag down and reach the side of his neck. He let's out one last breath before falling limp in my grasp.

As I pulled my knife out and used the clean side of his shirt to wipe out the excess blood, I faced Alek, a frown etching on my face as I took in her disoriented look, her gaze shifting between the dead body and me.

I sheathed my knife before placing both of my hands on her shoulder, "Alek, are you sure you want to be here? You can still go back and wait with the gang. What I did to him will surely happen to many others."

She inhales sharply, nodding, "I'm a Hofferson," she claims, "nothing is impossible even if I have to kill someone, or watch someone, with my own two eyes, else do the killing."

I let the words linger for a minute, my eyes scanning her face for any form of fear before attending to the already deceased cleaner. I searched his pockets for anything useful and only found a lighter. I kept that in my pocket just incase I needed it. When there was nothing left to search from him, I got his shotgun, along with its shells, and strapped it to Alek's pack. Alek complained for a moment, claiming that I'm only doing this to get near 's partly true but for the most part I wanted her to use this just in case of emergencies.

She placed the other extra shells of the shotgun in her pocket as we walked and tried to find for any oxygen tanks. We were already on the second floor and there still seems to be none. Luck seems to not be on our side today and it was really upsetting. I was close to getting discouraging, my hands mindlessly taking every item it sees and throwing aside in hopes of finding for an oxygen tank behind it. In the middle of my search I heard Alek yell my name. Quickly, I scrambled out and saw her wheeling an oxygen tank towards me.

"We have another problem," Alek breathed out, "how are we gonna get this out without those guys on our tail?"

"Shit," I swore, I looked behind her and saw the silhouettes of flamethrowers. We were about to hide if only they didn't see the oxygen tank we were trying so hard to haul in through the narrow hospital door. They cleaners looked at me straight in the face before speeding up their pace with their flamethrowers clutched tightly in their hands.

"Alek, get the oxygen tank. There has to be an emergency exit somewhere," I say, handing the tank to Alek, nearly tripping in the process as my hands fumbled with the wires. "Take this," I pull out an M4 and hand it to her, "and tell the gang you got it. Once you get out, drive back to Berk."

She looked at me, surprised, "Drake this is not the time to act hero! We can get out of here and we are _not_ leaving you!" she pushes on, a single finger pointed at my chest as she glares at me.

 _God_ , why do you have to be so persistent?

The sound of their footsteps were getting closer. I breathed in, and then out, before speaking, "look, if you don't get that back to Berk, the mayor's wife will die. I finish my job no matter what happens. Now, go!"

She gave me one last look before nodding. I watched as she ran to the stairs, her legs taking her as fast she could as she simultaneously tried to keep the oxygen tank safe in the process.

With a sigh, I faced the door and watch it burst open with a bunch of flame throwers barging in. I pulled the trigger and opened fire.

 **ALEK'S POV**

I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could. Both of my arms were aching because of how heavy it is but thankfully I only had to drag it down. Still, trying to balance the eagerness to get out with the safety of a tank did a number of pain in both of my arms.

As I was about to run towards the place where we entered, my radio buzzed in my pocket and Frank's voice filled the empty space.

"Alek, we have a problem outside!" he frantically yells.

"What kind of problem?" I asked.

Rebecca's voice buzzed in and answered for us, "Uh, guys! Flamethrowers are coming towards us!"

Upon hearing this I stumbled quickly to a nearby window and peeked at the commotion going on outside. Along my line of vision stood an SUV with a bunch of guys behind it throwing potshots while the cleaners — or whatever Drake called them — moved forward.

"Aim for the propane tank, it will explode on contact but only shoot it when they're close!" I order before lifting up the oxygen tank and throwing it onto a dump truck. With a slam, I got out of the window only to look up and see a gun aimed at me. Before he could even shoot, I got my handgun out and shot him thrice in the head and watched him fall.

 **FRANK'S POV**

 _Gods_ , this isn't happening. First we ran over Freaks, then we got into a car chase and _now_ we have guys that are trying to burn us alive with flamethrowers.

From the corner of my eye I could see Heather and Cami trying to take potshots while Ruff, on the other hand, had a bottle with a rag on top of it in her grasp.

"Fish, you got a lighter?" she yells over the commotion taking place around us, but despite that it still took me in by surprise and only added to my already evident discomfort. I felt around my pockets, feeling for anything that resembled the shape of a lighter before facing her and shaking my hands in a manner that said _none._

She then asks the others and, luckily, Cami had one. Cami tosses the lighter towards Ruff, who had a big grin on her face while catching.

Her grin got wider as she lit up the rag, yelling, "Fire in the hole!"

The bottle flew from her grasp and on towards the guys with flamethrowers. The bottle shattered into pieces as the fire hissed and ate whatever flames it could devour. We waited for groans of pain but only heard the crackling of the fire. We gave it a moment and peeked right after only to see the same group of people walking through the fire as if it's nothing.

It was amusing to see one of them explode and cause the other one to fly and slam back onto the pavement but that didn't erase the fact that they were getting closer and closer.

I frantically looked around, scanning the area for any loopholes or useful equipment that can be served as a leverage for this unfortunate situation I found myself in. A gasp fell from my lips when I saw a bullet shoot through one of the men who were aiming at us, this was then followed by Alek who came running with an oxygen tank trailing behind her.

The faint smile on my lips vanished when I realized that Drake is nowhere to be seen with her.

"Where's Drake?" Cami asked, running forward to help Alek with the tank.

Alek quickly removes her gask mask before inhaling deeply and answering, "he's still in the hospital," she heaves, "he told us to leave but I'm going back for him."

She quickly gives the oxygen tank to Cami before running back to the building.

"Wait! Alek! We _have_ to leave. Val needs this and we're running out of time," Heather protests, makin Alek stop in her tracts.

Alek turns around and glares at her friend, "are you serious? We can't just leave him!"

Heather's fists were clenched by her side, her mouth already open and ready to say something if only if weren't cut off by the loud sound of glass shattering and falling onto a pavement followed by a body falling out of the window. Another body fell, accompanied by the different colors of flashing lights that illuminated the broken pieces of whatever's left from the glass of the window.

The short quiet was disrupted by the loud explosion that sent the building into flames.

This was then followed by Drake who got out of the window and clutched his side, limping towards us.

Alek quickly ran to him and helped him up. Heather went to the other side of him and helped as well as all three of them walked towards us.

"That could have gone better," Drake jokes, letting out a string of coughs.

He must've noticed our concerned gazes because right before I could even offer any medical help, he spoke, "this is nothing to me. Come on, let's get back to Berk," he says, holding out the keys.

No one took the key so he looked up again and asked, "who knows how to drive?"

Cami grinned, taking the keys from his palm and went for the driver's seat. Ruff called shotgun while the rest of us stayed at the back.

I helped Drake up in the car before letting Alek and Heather in, I then sat nearby the window and watched in anticipation, fidgeting in my seat as I thought of any way I could help him.

As if he could read my mind, he immediately handed me his pack, poncho, and vest that he's stripped himself off of. He then lifts up his long sleeve before swearing just above his breath. He tells me to give him his pack, which I politely did, as I watch him scan through it while he asks Alek to put pressure on his wound.

She nods without hesitating but I could have sworn I saw a blush tint her cheek?

I shrugged that off as I watch Drake pull out a first-aid kit, getting some bandages along with morphine. He then pulls out a lighter out from his pocket.

He groans as he pulls the cap of the morphine and stabs his shoulder. Cami stopped the driving the moment he ordered her to do so got out a knife.

Cami was equally as interested so I guess pulling up at a nearby road and watching Drake do...whatever he's doing was much more interesting than driving back to Berk.

Her eyes slowly widened as a knife falls into our line of vision. The knife was then handed to Heather, alongside with a bottle of water. He gave her orders, specifically telling her to wet the knife with the water and lighting it up right after.

I shakily held his shoulders, just like he told me to do, as I painfully watched him gently push the knife into his wound. My skin crawled as his teeth gritted, the knife making him yelp in pain as he adjusted the blade and made it go around in different directions. After a few minutes, his shoulders relaxed and we heard a sigh slip pass him as he pulls out a bullet from the wound.

He grabs the lighter and lights up the knife, gently pushing it into the open wound. He thrashed and groaned in pain before bandaging himself with the help of Alek. I handed him his gear right after and watch him wear it casually — _and sit there casually_ — as if _nothing_ happened.

"Are you _serious_?" Rebecca breaks the silence by asking, her hands placed on her hips as she's twisted in a bit of a weird angle just to watch the whole thing unfold.

Drake's left brow rose up, questioning her random outburst.

Heather stammers and quickly speaks for her, "What she's trying so say is, after that — pulling out a bullet in front of us, might I add — _you're_ sitting there as if _nothing_ happened!"

He shrugs nonchalantly, "I'm already used to it. As I've said, five ears outside could teach you things you always thought were impossible."

His hand reached for a flask in his pack before rising up to his lips and chugging the contents of it slowly. He noticed our stares which lead him to offer us a drink, to which all of us declined before staring up ahead at the road.

"More for me," he mutters as he drank a little more before screwing the flask close and placing it back in his pack.


	12. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_ _:_ ** _A GHOST OF THE PAST COMES BACK_**

The trip was silent, the gang not doing much except peeking at Harper from time to time who just sat quietly by the window that blocked the view he admired. He pulls out a sketch pad from his pack, along with his pencil before opening the back portion because if he opens the front he's sure they'll question why he has a drawing of Alek there.

His pencil gently danced on the paper, creating an outline of the checkpoint he's seen a while ago. He already memorizes it so it wasn't much of a struggle to put it into life on the piece of parchment so before he could even realize it he's already done half of what he's saw. His eyes scanned over the fence and the plant life that consumed whatever's left of those man-made structures.

Alek sat beside him, amused and in awe at his drawing. She couldn't seem to say anything to compliment him whatsoever so she just sat in silence and watched as he finished off shading the shadow of an abandoned Humvee.

Harper was about to close his sketch pad and tuck it bad into his pack if only Alek didn't snatch it from his grasp and analyzed the drawing at an ever more closer proximity, her eyes staring in awe at the sketches as if she's just seen anything like it for the first time.

Harper was about to complain and protest but stopped when he saw Alek's face. She looked completely mesmerized just by looking at the very realistic sketch that stood right in front of her.

To be realistic, in Harper's eyes it's just none other than another one of his drawings — a sketch, another something done out of boredom, so he didn't understand why people saw his drawings as the way they do now.

Like, for instance, Alek.

Even back in highschool Alek would always catch a glimpse of what he's sketching but instead of punching or humiliating him, she'll kindly ask if she can keep it. Harper couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that she'd ask such a thing so he'll just stare at her with wide eyes and stutter sentences like _are you serious_ which only made her give him this typical _Alek_ look that sort of has an answer to his question.

It didn't seem to answer quite much because he still proceeds to ask, "out of all the people, why me?"

And that's the moment where Alek finally gave recognition to Harper for the first time during her life back in high school. She remembers the auburn haired guy who was always bullied no matter where he went — the front of the school, hallways, classes, libraries, _everywhere._ He's probably been bullied even places of the school no one knew existed.

Everywhere at school he was the _ass._ The butt of jokes.

Ever since then, ever since her eyes were given the privilege to see his drawing, she saw him differently and finally noticed him, in the amount and state of pain he's been drenched through.

Before the drawing, in her eyes he was always a pathetic loser who couldn't stand up for himself, even if he was the mayor's son.

So when he asks that question in his voice, his lips trembling, she feels guilt fill her chest for once in her life. She realized how they tormented her for no reason _yet_ here he was still breathing the same air with them, still eating the same food with them, _still_ going to the same class.

She titles her head and blinks back a tear as she looks into Harper's eyes and saw all the pain and grief inside them that's been caused by all of them, all of his schoolmates.

It was finally senior year when she gave notice to him again and remembered their childhood as a whole. All of the memories flew past her at once and she's never felt like so much shit in that moment.

She promised she'd help Harper, even after everything they went through, but now she can't do that. She can't do it anymore.

She can't do it anymore because Harper's dead.

It was after the evacuation and when they saw no signs of Harper coming back they've realized that he's probably died and she's carried the same sadness Harper did in his eyes ever since.

"Wow," Alek mindlessly whispers, tilting the drawing and rotating it from time to time as she finally focuses back to the present.

Harper was equally as dazed except not by his work but the work of two other humans. His eyes were fixated on Alek, at how the sun made her blue eyes shine and her skin glow with so much beauty.

He sits back and thinks of how he looks straight into him and probably sees nothing but rotting guts.

Heather clears her throat, pulling the two out of their deep string of thoughts.

Everyone stared at them with concerning, and mostly questioning, looks. Alek eyed them all before getting to Harper, and their eyes only met each other for a moment but to the both of them it felt like years.

Alek smiled and politely handed Harper back his sketch pad. Their hands lightly brushed each other and a jolt shot through their bodies just by this simple touch. Alek quickly pulled back and left Harper's hand hovering in the air. He then realizes this and pulls back as well before staring back out the window, his hand awkwardly scratching his neck while Alek tucked her bangs and faced the road up ahead.

All the girls grinned at the couple while Frank was left confused, scratching at his head at what just unfolded.

The ride just kept getting more awkward than ever, mostly for Alek and Harper. They stole glances at each other from time to time, somewhere in the middle of it even catching the other do so. They kept doing this till the car went to a halt.

They've finally reached Berk.

They were called to come out and once the spotter eyed them fully, he looked a bit surprised before calling out the guard to open the gate.

The car drove in once the gates were opened and they parked on a spot that was nearby the tent. They all shuffled out while Frank got to the back and tended to the oxygen tank.

Heather and Rebecca helped Frank while Cami was busy checking out the SUV. Alek on the other hand was talking to one of Stephen's lieutenant.

Harper took some time in the car, fixing his things and checking his wounds before getting out as well and walking side by side with Alek. His peaceful walk was interrupted when something hard came in contact with his jaw. Harper was taken aback and stumbled onto the pavement, his jaw stinging as three muttonheads emerged into his line of vision.

He looked up and saw Sam with his fist clenched alongside Trevor and Eret who trailed behind him, both equally as angry looking as Sam did.

"You got a lot of nerve coming here, merc!" Sam sneers, bending down to point an accusing finger at Harper.

"You know you have to pay for our bill, right?" Eret adds on, shoving Sam aside and taking a fistful of Harper's clothes, pulling him close to his face till their noses were touching.

"No, we just kill him. He's just a scumbag from the wasteland," Sam suggests before casually pulling out a P250.

He aims the gun at Harper, only for Harper to grab the gun and push his forehead onto it, "do it! Fucking do it. End my life, end my _fucking_ miserable life!" Harper urges, placing a hand to his chest, surprising everybody.

"Come on, pull the trigger, _big boy_. Let's see how you feel when you kill a man right in front of you," Harper eggs on.

Sam's hands started to shake as Harper stared at him dead in the eyes.

Heather claps a hand on Sam's shoulder, "Sam, put the gun down."

"No! No, don't. Come on! You seem like a guy who won't see nightmares everyday for the rest of his life after this," Harper adds, intimidating Sam even more.

The smug look on Sam's face was now wiped off and replaced with fear. Eret placed both of his hands on Sam's shoulder, shaking him roughly while saying _it's not worth it_ to whatever second thoughts were racing in Sam's mind. They both look back at Harper who continued taunting them.

" _Come on,_ you're doing everybody a favor. Killing a bastard like me! Do it already, pull the fucking trigger. Or...what? Walk away, do it you _fuck,_ walk away and be a _lout._ A fucking Snot _lout!_ " Harper mocked in a joyful tone, enjoying the reaction twisting on Sam's face.

Harper opens his arms wider, as if silently asking Sam to just shoot but Sam's arms only shook harder than they ever did. In his distracted state, Harper got up and punched him on the mouth and watch him stumble back, his ass landing landing on the ground.

Sam clutched his cheek before spitting out a tooth. Harper glares at him before walking to the direction of the bar. Alek quickly went to Sam's side, extending a hand to help him out only to kick him in the chest, making him stumble back and fall onto the pavement again.

"Are you crazy or just stupid?" she scolds before following after Harper.

Harper just continued walking and ignored the voice of the person who was calling him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and another voice interrogate, an angel or some sort, to stop. Upon turning around he sees Alek looking at him and for a moment the walls he built up so high to protect himself crumbled down and sought for comfort and closure but within the blink of an eye the walls were built back and he just shrugs her off.

Slowly, he removes Alek's hands from his shoulder and walks away. She watches straight ahead as Harper entered the bar and disappeared into her line of sight. She decided that maybe he needed some time alone and headed back, but before she could even get far off she heard Harper's broken and felt her heart ache at the sound it made.

Meanwhile, Cami and Heather were scolding the guys while Rebecca and Frank moved the oxygen tank to a Humvee that was the mayor's personal car.

The scolds and angry groans of Cami and Heather made it's way to her ear as she walks pass by them, the three boys having their heads down in shame.

Another Humvee came in and it turned out to be Stephen's.

"What's going on here?" Stephen asks, eyeing the two angry girls and two ashamed men before his eyes landed on an injured Sam clutching his mouth.

"What happened here!" Stephen booms, asking again as he waits for a response. The girls were about to answer but Sam beat them to it.

"Drake did this, uncle. Punched me after I went to say sorry to him," Sam lies to which the boys behind him agrees with, nodding their heads eagerly to back up his false statement.

"That's bullshit and you guys know it!" Alek says. The girls nod in agreement. "Sam _punched_ Drake before pulling out his _pistol_ and aiming it at Drake. Drake just stared at him, accepting his fate, which _Snotlout_ couldn't do," Alek finishes, using the nickname Harper used as she snickers at his silently.

Stephen looked at both groups, gaze hesitantly shifting between the two before settling on the girls. He was about to say something only to be cut off by the nurse.

"Mayor Stephen, your wife needs you."

Wasting no more time, he quickly got into his Humvee and drove to his house with other several adults trailing behind him as they ran to the Mayor's house.

Back at the back, Harper was busy drinking his sorrows away. Gerald just looks at him with sympathy and pours him another round.

After finishing that, he was about to ask for another one only to be startled when the door flew open and in came Alek.

"Gobber! Stephen needs you. Something's wrong with Val," she frantically says, pacing back and forth as her hands flew to her hair.

Gerald limped out of the bar and to his surprise Harper followed behind. Both Gerald and Alek looked at him questioningly, making him sigh before answering.

"Look, if she needs help, she needs _all_ of it."

They both nodded to that and after that they just ran to the Mayor's house as fast as they could.

Alek and Gerald got in while Harper's pace slowed down a bit. Maybe it's the alcohol in his system, or maybe it's the fact that he's suddenly hit with waves of his childhood memories as he eyes the house that stood in front of him.

Nothing changed. It was all the same.

He shook his head to rid of any processing flashbacks and instead ran back into the house, up the stairs, and in the room where he suspects his mother is in.

He stood beside Alek and eyed the woman who laid on the bed, her hair tied into a disheveled messy bun, strands of hair framing her face. She looked weak and Harper swelled at the scene that stood right before him. Stephen held his wife's hand in between his, soothing her.

Harper's eyes followed the nurse that placed the oxygen tank in. They waited for a moment before Val started to breathe normally again.

Her eyes scanned around the room, a faint smile forming on her lips before it broke out into a grin once it landed on Harper.

"Harper," she whispers softly. Stephen heard this before telling her that it's just the oxygen coming in. She disregards him and says that he's just right there standing at the doorway. Stephen followed her gaze and only saw Drake, he looks back at his wife and proceeds to tell her that Harper's _dead._

Harper's chest swelled and he felt his heart shatter. He stomped in, only to be blocked by Stephen as he stood up and towered above him.

"This is a family matter. I suggest you leave, _now._ " Stephen hisses.

Harper's eyes grew wide, glaring daggers back at Stephen, "After _all_ these years, you don't even recognize your own son up close," he says, just above a whisper.

Stephen failed to hear this. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

"Don't you recognize your son! You fucking moron!" Harper yells, shocking everyone. The whispers and murmurs fell into silence as Stephen stared, wide-eyed, at Harper.

"What are you talking about?" he yells back. He was pissed and confused.

Harper was irritated. He his skin prick as he reached his hand up to touch his mask. Slowly, he removed it and threw it on the floor.

Stephen's eyes grew wider than he thought they could, along with the others in the room.

It shocked everybody to see a boy, _the boy,_ who they thought died right in front of them after that unfaithful day, alive and well with his lungs about to inhale another breath of air standing _right_ in front of them.

Harper pushed his father out of his way and kneeled beside his mother.

"Harper? Is- is that you?" Vallory asks, her voice soft as he reaches out for him.

The tears that threatened to spill from his eyes rolled freely down his cheeks as he held his mother hand and leaned into her touch.

"Yes, mom. It's me, your son. Right here standing beside you. I'm not dead mom, I'm _not,_ " Harper sobbed as he intertwined their fingers.

Vallory struggled a bit, trying her best to get the best of his head and hug it, and she succeeded even if it was a bit. Her hands then took his chin and tilted them up, her eyes meeting his as a weak smile breaks through her face, "Look at you, all grown. You thought I'll never recognize my boy. Remember, Harper, a mother never forgets."

Harper broke out into a sob and Vallory slowly got up and hugged him to her chest, receiving each and everyone of them while replacing them with soothing words that turned his sobs much softer as time passed.

Everybody in the room still stood, gobsmacked, as realization slowly seeped into them. There were no words to describe what they felt to the scene anc to what just happened.

To see that Drake was Harper Haddock all along.


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Hey guys, so of to business. Venusinthe10th is my Beta, and she likes to joke and fool around from time to time. So Allyssa14, thank you for defending me but yeah she's my beta xd.**_

 _ **CHAPTER TWELVE**_ _:_ ** _FEELINGS MUST BE CONFESSED_**

The room was blanketed with silence as the reality of Drake being Harper slowly sunk in everyones chest and integrates itself into their minds.

It was hard to believe that the mercenary they knew that went by Drake, this badass, merciless, cold and secretive man they came to knew of days ago turned out to be the supposed dead boy they knew years ago.

Everyone stared at the him, their gazes coated with sympathy as Harper nuzzled himself in his mother's chest and continued crying years of pain he's kept tucked in properly.

Val was also crying because, after all these years, she finally got to be with her son again.

"Shhh, Harper. It's alright. I'm just glad you're alive, _my Gods,_ what happened to you while you were outside?" Val asks, wiping a stray tear away as Harper sniffled.

Harper looked at her for a moment, his bloodshot eyes staring into hers before answering, "I-I...I reg-...I regret. I should ha...have come home while I had...had the chance," he chokes out between sobs. Val's palm laid flat on his back, going in circles before moving up and down to soothe him.

Vallory disagreed, "son, you didn't know Berk became a safe haven. It's not your fault, but ours." She explains, only to be interrupted by Stephen's loud voice.

"What are you talking about, Val? If the boy stayed close he couldn't have been separated from us!" Stephen yelled. Harper aims a gun at his forehead, taking everybody yet again by surprise.

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about da- Stephen. It's your fault I was stuck in this mess in the first place," Harper exclaims.

"Don't you _dare_ blame this on me, Harper!" Stephen yells, his hands throwing up in the air in exasperated way before bringing down one index finger and pointing it accusingly at Harper's chest, "I told you to stay close! But what did you do? _Oh,_ you tried to help a man who was a _lost cause_ before the stamped came in!"

Harper's breathing was erratic as his icy glare bore into Stephen's eyes, no remorse to be found in them.

Stephen was breathing heavily as well and did the same thing, sending his own glares to Harper but somehow he was at a disadvantage for Harper was winning this ruse.

"What are you going to do? Shoot your own father?" Stephen asks, his tone a bit shaky as he breaks the silence stretching between him and Harper. Audible gasps could be heard from the audience but the both of them shrugged it off as they continued to stare at each other.

"Yes," Harper says. Stephen didn't take this seriously, not until Harper pulls out the handgun he's lowered after their shouting and aims it towards his leg. He pulls the trigger and a bullet flew, digging itself into Stephen's shin.

"You shot me," Stephen muses out in disbelief, the pain of the wound slowly coming to his sense as he bends down and clutches it. Blood seeped out the gaps in between his fingers and onto the floor.

" _You shot me_ ," Stoick repeats, much softer this time as his gaze averted to the floor that was slowly colored by his own blood. He was dumbfounded and couldn't take in the fact that his own _son_ shot him.

"I have no regrets anymore, dad," Harper said, "the only regret I have is not coming home to see mom while I had the chance," he says, his tone still laced with the coldness as he walks out of the room. Val shouted his name and Harper heard this immediately and stopped in his tracks before running back to the room, the crowd clearing the way for him due to their fear for what Harper's capable of, and just for the fear of him in general.

"Harper, please don't go. I lost you once and I'm not losing you again," Vallory cried out, clutching Harper's arm.

Harper stared at his mother and for a moment Val thought that maybe, _just maybe_ , he'd stay. That for once they can be a happy family, just him and her, together.

But all of that hope vanished when Harper shook his head and slung his pack off of him, retrieving a small plush toy and handing it to his mother.

"I kept this wherever I go," he says, a small, faint smile ghosting on his lips as he watched his mother take the toy in with surprise, "funny thing is whenever someone would try to rob me, I'd beg them not to take this."

Val inspected the toy in her grasp, tears now streaming down her cheeks as she eyes the small Night Fury in her hands, the one she gave Harper a long time ago when he was just a baby.

"I have to mom. My place isn't here anymore. It's outside. Berk does not want me no matter how many times you beg...they'll never accept me back. This is a goodbye, mom. I love you," Harper says.

It took everything in him to get those words out, and the moment he did he quickly hugged his mom and hid his face on her neck, scared of what her reaction would be. He felt the slight tremble before pulling back and, without even looking, he grabbed his mask and walked out.

Everyone — except for Stephen — looked at the pair with tear filled eyes. The scene itself warmed their heart because it's been years since they've seen the life come back in Val's eyes.

But in just a matter of seconds they saw the life fade quickly as it came.

Meanwhile, Gerald and Seth went to Stephen and helped him up. Stephen gritted his teeth in anger and watched his son run out he room.

"Seth, call in every guard. I want my son back. _Alive._ He will face charges for his crimes outside the wasteland, and in Berk."

"Stoick, yu' can't, he's yur' son fo' cryin' out loud!" Gerald says, his hands flinging up in the air in panic as Stephen stared at him angrily.

"I _don't_ care, Gobber. For Thor's sake he _shot_ me!" Stephen retorts, removing his hands for a split second from the wound Harper caused while eyeing it in order to prove his point.

Seth hesitated before nodding and grabbing his radio, barking orders to capture Harper alive.

Alek slinked through the crowd and wasted no time running out. She barged right out of the door, frantically looking from the left and right, trying to find the auburn hair she's grown so familiar with in the array's of tents and trees.

After much looking, a man walking away quietly finally fell into her line of sight and she quickly ran towards him, tripping a little on the process.

"Shit!" she mutters before running towards Harper, "Harper! Harper!" she calls, jumping up and down in the air only to be ignored by Harper. He only walked faster, making Alek sigh, groan, and roll her eyes and run after him even more.

Her hand latched itself onto his arm, only to be forcefully removed by Harper's other free arm.

"Harper, there's no more time. Your father is after you! Alek scolds, forcefully dragging Harper from side to side, not really making it anywhere. Harper looks at her in surprise before noticing six military trucks emerging from different areas, heading towards where they stood. Six men were also on the road pointing at Harper's direction.

"Look, you have to _trust_ me and _follow_ me!" Alek yells over the wheels crunching in sync over the dead leaves on the pavement. Harper had no choice so he just nodded his head and agreed, following her through the streets as onlookers stared at the two people who rushed passed by them, running away from military officials.

Up ahead they saw a Humvee stop right in front of them. Alek groaned and turned around, only to see yet another one stop behind them. After a few minutes, emerged from their left and right as well were another pair of Humvees.

Harper's eyes scanned the vehicles and realized that there's no way out now. A grin then stretches on his lips as he reaches for his pack.

"Alek, wear this," Harper started, handing her one of his extra half mask.

Alek reluctantly took it and wore it quickly. Harper then wears his own before pulling out a tear gas canister and throwing it at the Humvee up front. When they heard the smoke pop, followed by several coughing, they ran ahead.

They looked down and saw the soldiers covering their faces, heaving and coughing heavily. Harper tool advantage of this and took their rifles before shooting at the soldiers behind and pinning them. He then tosses the gun on the pavement and runs away.

"Look! Up ahead! There's a spot where I'd always go to when you'd try to beat me up!" Harper says, a bit too enthusiastically yet a bit dead as well contrary to the description itself. While Harper was a bit ecstatic now that they could hide — _despite_ terrible memories of said spot — guilt immediately rushed Alek's veins at the thought of Harper even needing a hiding spot simply because they couldn't go through a day without chasing and bullying him.

They kept running until they made it to the abandoned part of town. They looked around and saw that no one was chasing them. Harper scanned the area, his gaze landing on a specific building and recognizing it before ushering Alek to follow.

Harper attempted to pull down the boards, which were ineffective and lead him to kick it down instead. When the door fell, he let Alek in first and while they walked in, Alek removed the half mask and gave it back to Harper.

The only light they had was coming from the entrance but even that wasn't enough to light up the dimly lit place so Harper got his flashlight that hung on his poncho and angled it to their front.

Harper smiles as he removes the two-by-fours out of the way, revealing a small hall.

"Come this way," Harper said, his hand gesturing Alek to follow before he dropped down and crawled in. Alek did the same and once they got out, she dusted off the dust from her shirt before looking up, taking in her surroundings.

The room smelled of musk and old wood and sat on the middle was a small, dirty mattress, it's edges and the middle torn while up top, she noticed a hole in the ceiling. The walls had several windows who were all boarded up and sat near one of the windows was a wooden table, with a lamp on top of it. To the right of the table was a crate and to the left of it was a chair.

All the items in the room were covered in dust and Alek tried not to inhale too deeply as she didn't want to sneeze.

At the left side of the room was wall, no covered with windows, but with several of Harper's drawings that have turned slightly brown and inaudible, the edges curled and the paper itself gathering more dust.

 _So this is where Harper goes_ , she thought. _No wonder we don't see him a lot in town._

"Welcome to the cove," Harper says, waving a hand vaguely to the area as eyes her surprised reaction.

"How did you manage to find this place? I mean, there's practically no doorway!" Alek asks, completely amused and bewildered at how he even got to move all this stuff in here to begin with — unless this actually isn't his.

Harper scratched the back of his neck nervously before facing Alek with a smile.

"Well, not exactly," he says and Alek tilted her head questioningly at that, "okay, look, I kind of cemented the doorway of the building, small entrance or whatever you'd like to call it."

Alek looked at Harper for a second, her eyes staring into his as she tried to see if he's telling her the truth. Finally at ease, she shifts her gaze and looks around again, falling — _butt first_ — onto the mattress and taking the pillow, holding her breath before dusting it off.

"Do you sleep here?" she asks, her hands surprisingly gathering only small amounts of dust as she runs it on the mattress.

Harper hesitated, inhaling and exhaling as he stares at Alek before answering with a heavy sigh, "sometimes, since dad always locks me out when I don't make it in time before curfew. It's family rules, which mom enforced so I bought a small mattress with the allowance she gives me and, _ta da!_ I got somewhere to sleep."

Alek's eyes softened, "don't you have any relatives to live in with during that time?"

Harper's gaze shifted again, this time as he looked back at her his eyes glossed but he blinked back and potential tears before saying, "No, since the Jorgenson's are the said relatives and most of them hate my very existence. Me having no friends at school was also inconvenient. Then you have Gobber who offered me a place to stay which I kindly declined because I'm not willing to take the risk of getting beaten up by an intoxicated man who might mistaken me for a robber."

Alek's eyes widened at this. _He's right_ , she thought. _He had no one._

The space beside Alek dipped down as Harper sat on the mattress. Removing the pack, poncho and vest and placing them on the table, he fell onto the matters, arms splayed wide, as he blew raspberries to the air.

Alek just sat there, her eyes admiring the drawings on the walls as her hands fidgeted with the pillow, taking no mind of the dust that gathered on her fingernails while Harper still continued to blow raspberries in the air.

An awkward silence stretched between them before Harper cleared his throat and spoke.

"Why?" he muses, "why did you help me? I was basically an asshole to you. I hid my face my everybody. I mean, I'm still the little hiccup everybody sees in me," he mutters the last part but Alek still heard it and punches him on the shoulder in response.

"Ow!" Harper groans in pain, clutching his shoulder and staring at Alek, "Why would you do that? I mean, yes, I _was_ an asshole to you which I'm sorry _and_ the fact that I almost killed you _twice.._ "

Harpers words and rambles blurred past Alek as she rolls her eyes and grabs Harper's long sleeve, pulling him into a kiss. Her lips intertwined with his into a passionate kiss but Harper didn't really respond since his mind was blank.

She removes herself from the him, examining his reaction. Harper had a goofy smile on his face, his hand moving up to touch his lips as he looked at Alek dumbfoundedly.

"I'll take that as an apology accepted," Harper says.

Alek grinned but that grin immediately wiped off her face as she knelt down Harper and grabbed both of his hands and intertwined his with hers.

Harper stared at her in shock, a question at the tip of his tongue that he itched to ask. He stayed quiet for a moment longer before asking, because he really needed to get it off his chest.

"Alek, _why,_ why? Why did you help me? Don't get me wrong, _I'm grateful,_ but why?"

Alek looked up at Harper as she tried to find the letter she's already written in her mind, ready to be read out loud to him on this specific day. This was her only chance to say the words she's always wanted that not even a simple sticky note could simply carry.

"I want to say sorry. I want to apologize. I left you when you needed a friend the most. I left you to rot thinking that you're a hiccup for the mere fact that you were an amazing friend," Alek says, "after I took the drawing you drew back at high school, I promised myself to look after you. But after the incident at the evacuation center, we all thought you died," Alek finishes the last part with a sad look, her gaze shifting down on the floor. Harper took her chin in his grasp and tilted it up, making her face him.

He shook his head, "it's not your fault, Alek. If anything, it's mine. I was just a hiccup. Everybody was right, I mean, I tried to help someone from being eaten but I also failed at that. I'm weak, pathetic, scrawny, a failure and I was a useless guy."

Alek glared at him, jabbing at his chest making him let out a groan he orchestrated for her sake because, to be honest, it didn't actually hurt.

"Don't say that. You're not weak, Harper. Gods, you stayed in the wasteland for _five_ years! That's called bravery, Harper. You're not pathetic either, _Gods,_ you body slammed Sam into a table for God's sake, and it's not your fault that you didn't get to save him. You tried and that's all that matters," she said. At this, a soft, gentle smile stretched on Harper's lips as he looked longingly at Alek.

"You're not useless, by all means, you're a resourceful person. You are special, Harper. All those inventions, those drawings. those ideas," Alek's hand moved vaguely in the air at this, "those things you make."

"Harper Haddock," she sternly says, "we promised to look after each other when we're young up until we grow up but I broke that promise. Here I am now again, years later, redeeming myself if you would accept me?"

Harper smiles before pulling Alek into a hug, "of course, Alek! But I still need time to move on from the past since my childhood is still an utter hell combined with the things I did in the wasteland. It's going to consume me, little by little," he adds, suddenly feeling fear rush through him at the thought of Alek seeing this as an inconvenience.

"Harper," Alek says, placing her hands on his shoulders and staring at him straight in the eye, "burying the past won't do anything until you form peace with it. It's like burying a person alive, he will slowly die before his corpse start to rot. You have to bury the hatchet, once and for all."

Harper stays silent and looks down, avoiding her gaze. She hooked his chin with her fingers and forced him to look at her.

"Harper, talk to me. I'm here for you now, you're not alone. I'll make sure you get out of Berk, I promise you that," Alek reassures before hugging Harper and nuzzling herself in his neck.

"Why did you kiss me?" Harper suddenly asks out of the blue.

Alek stiffened in Harper's grasp as he slowly pieced things together. Alek's eyes were wide and her cheeks were oddly hot, and probably tinted by a tinge of red by now.

She calmed down and slowly got herself out of the hug and looked at Harper, who stared at him back with hurt.

"No, no, no! It's not out of sympathy or I-had-no-words-to-think-of!" she quickly says, "it's just," she pauses and sighs, "I had a crush on you, Harper. Well, after you hit your growth spurt I started to have this-this," her hands wildly gestured in the empty space in between them, making Harper chuckle, "this thing for you. And, _well,_ uh- you see. When you were still under the guise of the mask, I-I...I liked the...you see...I liked the.."

Alek trailed off, trying to find the right words for what she liked because it was sort of inappropriate.

Harper rolls his eyes and before Alek could even finish her sentence, Harper pulls her in for a kiss to which she immediately responds to, their lips in sync as his hand found itself on the small of her back and hers found itself on the back of his neck, slowly trailing up to his hair and played with it, her forefinger and middle finger intertwining with the strands.

They pulled back, panting, as they rested their foreheads against each other.

"I like you too, Alek. Even before as children, I've always liked you. Up until now, I still do," he says, giving her a peck on the lips.

Alek giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek and pulling back. She stood up and stared at the night sky through the tiny cracks the boarded window allowed. She squinted at the light the moon illuminated in her eyes as she faced Harper.

"So, how are you going to explain this to my father?" Harper asks, his fingers fiddling with themselves now that they're not on Alek's back, once fiddling with the fabric that covered it.

Alek walked back to the bed and fell on her back, exhaling a breath of exasperation.

"Well, I can't just go back since by now I'll be branded as traitor," she says, a smile inching up her lips as Harper groaned, probably thinking whatever she's thinking.

"Gods, now please don't tell me you're coming with me."

"Yes and no. I can't just leave my parents behind, my life is here at Berk yet at the same time I don't want to leave you behind," Alek reasoned, now finding the situation a bit hard to find solutions through. She pursed her lip as she took a strand of her hair and twisted it.

Harper inched closer to Alek on the bed, taking her hand as he ran his fingers on her knuckles, "I'll find a way to stay in Berk, even if I have to face trial. I want my life back at Berk, with you, with my mother, and, if time goes by and allows, maybe with everybody as well."

They lazily smiled at each other before finally laying properly on the bed. They laid down there staring at the ceiling while pondering on things silently. Soon enough, they both fell asleep and slowly inched towards each other. Eventually, Harper's arm found it's way to Alek, draping it around her as Alek laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat that slowly lulled her to sleep.


	14. Chapter 13

_**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**_ : **HUNTING A GHOST**

 **HARPER'S POV**

Sunlight showered on my face from above, hurting my eyes. A groan slips pass my lips as I regret not putting a cover on the hole in this thing. Another groan slips pass my lips when I realize that I can't move.

Something a bit heavy was wrapped around me.

Very tightly.

My eyes trailed down to see that it was only Alek, who seem to be very snuggled up and comfortably sleeping on my chest.

I smiled softly at her state, my chest swelling up with happiness because I practically felt like I was in a dream. What was once a hopeless dream that always drifted in my thoughts during my childhood were now coming true, and even I right now couldn't believe it. I've always been hopelessly in love with Alek and have gotten used to the fact that I'll just be brushed off by her, yet here I am now, my limbs tangled with the woman I love so much. And most importantly, she _loves_ me back.

I smiled at the ceiling before smiling back down at her and giving her a kiss on the head. I lied there for a bit, letting the sleepiness remove itself off me before attempting to pry off Alek's hands off of me.

Instead of her removing it, she just tightened her grip and, if possible, sunk closer and much deeper to me and to my chest.

"Few...more...minutes," she mumbles, her voice muffled by my chest as she hugs me tightly in what seems to be an attempt to pulling me closer.

I sighed and gave in, helping her instead by hugging her closer to me. She sighs in satisfaction at this before dozing off again, not that she ever woke up fully.

While she slept I started to think of plans in order to get out of Berk. Dad has all of the guards on high alert and at the same time, chances are, they might double the security at the gate.

Bringing Alek would be seemed impossible as each minute passed. Even if we fell in love for one another, even something as strong as that can't provide her a safe environment and that's all I'll ever want her to be.

To be safe.

The wasteland might change her and I'm not taking any chances for that to happen. I started thinking. I had to.

 _Why is this happening to me?_ I just want to have a normal life. Now that I'm with Alek, how can I have one with me being a wanted man from my old group and at the same time having a bounty on my head.

I'm like a walking target to everybody and chances are Berk might be put at risk and get attacked by everyone else outside, all because of me.

I need to get out, and fast. If someone tries to stop, I might as well just inspect and see if I have to kill them. The only thing I hoped for was that my mother would forgive me for what I've done back at the house.

I never really wanted to leave but of course every single control I've had left in me slipped and I had to lose it in front of my father. My eyebrows dipped as I stared angrily at the hole at the ceiling, thinking that it was mirror instead and that I was glaring at myself.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't realize Alek had awoken. Her body stirred one more time before her head tilted up and looked at me.

I smiled and pulled her up, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks as she undoes her messy brain and redoes it again, not changing much but at least the stray strands were minimized now. I tucked in a few stray strands of hair that didn't make it and stared at the ceiling before shifting my gaze to her.

"It's just- I don't know," I sighed, "chances are my father might get me. If not then, _well,_ I'll just- I'll just go back to being Night Fury, you know? One of the most dangerous mercenaries of the state. No, really!" I quickly said when I realized that may not have been a great start for her to take me seriously, "I mean, a huge bounty is already at my head. Not sure how much."

She stares at me for a second before rolling her eyes and shuffling closer to my side. Her hands slinked up my shoulders and up to my head, massaging my scalp.

"Hey, what are you do-" I felt her slowly grab bundles of hair before tugging on them hardly, "ow!"

"Milady, what are you doing?" I ask, chuckling as she tugged harder causing me to yelp and my scalp to burn a bit.

She just hummed a tune and ignored me. I stayed silent and felt another tug, much gentler this time. I felt her other hand drop from my head and into her pocket, retrieving a tiny band and tying it around the said bundle of hair she's gotten.

It's only then I realized that she's _braiding_ me and that she's already _done_ a _braid._

Oh gods.

"Don't tell me you placed a braid- I-I-I...I mean braids!" I corrected myself when I felt another one getting tied.

I tried to contort my face into one of annoyance but failed miserably as I saw her shift to the other side to make a third one.

"Your hair is too long, merc. It's either I cut it or braid it, you choose," she says, stopping her act mid-braid as her hand trailed down my waist and o my belt, slowly unsheathing the knife there.

Not the knife I wanted unsheathed but, it could do. Except, not in this situation.

I chose the braids and just nodded mindlessly at the question, feeling her sheath the knife back to it's place. She mumbles something about braids being better before going back to braiding the last one.

When she finally finished, with much protest and arguing that I _didn't_ need a fourth one despite her saying that it should be equal, ("two on the left, two on the right") we both got up and fixed ourselves.

I shuffled myself into my gear as Alek watched me with an expressionless face. It then dawned on me that Alek had left all her gear at the tent, so she's left unarmed. After wearing my gear, I got my extra handgun, a gift from Demsey which was a P99, and handed it to her.

Speaking of which, I then remembered that I needed his help and that bastard will help me whether he's busy or not because _he_ owes _me_ some fucking favors.

After giving the gun I gave her a couple of mags. She tucked the gun behind her jeans and placed the mags in her pocket. We gave one last double check before getting out of the cover.

Right before we stepped out I made sure to seal the place again for future use.

I peeked out of the doorway, my eyes scanning the streets. I sighed in relief when I realized that it was empty.

"Harper, loosen up will ya," Alek says, "no wonder people recognize you, you really look like you came out of a garbage can," she jokes, laughing and snorting helplessly at what she's said.

"Gee, thanks. I got this from Walmart, don't blame me for really good deals," I sarcastically say, her laughs dying down as she glares at me in response.

I removed my poncho and folded it, hooking it to the strap of my pack and since I can't remove my vest I opened it instead to make it look like a regular vest.

I've removed my mask as well and placed it inside my pack.

The two of us walked side by side and onlookers looked at us with suspense, but that only lasts a few seconds as they shrug us off and would move along.

A few seconds later cops emerged from ahead of us and they looked at us suspiciously, much longer than the onlookers did so Alek and I laughed out loud, pretending to ignore the world as I held her closer and slung my arm over her shoulder. The cops bought it, muttering _false alarm_ under their breaths.

"Well, looks like dad is haunting me done," I confirm, my tone a bit bittersweet at the thought of my own father hunting me down.

At least he wanted me alive.

But that's not even half as good.

"We'll get to the lock up," Alek reassures me when she realizes me getting deep into thought, "I think we can steal a car and get out of Berk."

"Alek, wait," I stop, tensing up at the word _we_ being thrown around so casually by her mouth, "are you _sure_ you want to come with me? Once you're out you can't come back."

Her eyes widened for a bit as she stared off into the distance, my arm slipped off her shoulders slowly as she stared into the empty streets before looking back at me with so much determination.

She nods.

"Look, chances are we all might be outside right now and anytime the Outcast could break in and kill everybody. And besides, I have the elusive Night Fury as a _pet_ ," she says the last part with a smirk.

"Hey! Since when did I become the pet welp?" I retort, only to receive a punch in the arm.

I yelped and clutched my arm, "and _here_ we go again. Look, milady, I'll handle the violence while you just stand there and look pretty," I joked but her glare still stood as she went in for another punch, same spot.

Surrendering, I raised my arms as she smirked in triumph.

The both of us finally stopped teasing each other and decided to head for the lock up. It was just a detention center beside the police station. _The usual._

As we walked, Alek immediately pulled me to the building next to us where she pushed me against the wall. She slowly peeked around the corner.

"What do you see?" I whisper, shoving down the weird uncomfortable feeling at how weird this feels in my case.

"The gang! They're with the guards hunting us down," she responds, a scowl on her face as her eyes followed the group of people.

Once I felt her grip loosen I peeked for myself as well and she was right. The gang was walking around with the guards on high alert and finding for us.

All of them except for Trevor and Rebecca who stood at the center of the street, holding a megaphone as they announced the weather that they've predicted.

I'm actually surprised that the Freaks haven't overrun Berk yet with that loud of noise because any Freak out there could've picked that up and a horde by now would've taken the chance.

I saw Cami's head snap into my direction, I saw her just right in time to move back and hide with Alek.

Alek looked at me, confused as to why I retracted a bit too hesitantly and too fast.

"There _may_ be a chance that Cami saw me and there _may_ be a chance that she's on her way here with the guards behind her," I spoke, my tone soft as I waited for Alek's reaction.

Alek groaned at this and peeked at the corner with me following behind, only for us to be pushed back by both Cami and Heather.

Their heads snapped to my direction.

"Harper, you are a dead man by chance," Heather jokes, slowly walking towards me and bending down to my eye level.

I gave her my signature glare which immediately shut her up, or whatever she may have planned to say after that.

 _So this is how Alek scares people._

Cami gave one glance at the corner before speaking, "I know you guys need a car from the lock up but fat chance is Stephen has that place on high security."

"Can I just go in guns blazing then?" I ask, sarcasm dripping from my tone as she glares at me in annoyance.

"No, _muttonhead._ You can't get out of Berk. _Period._ Look, we'll vouch for you, same goes for Gobber and your mom," Cami informs.

Gobber was a bit of a shock since sometimes you really can't tell which side he's really one but my mother? I know I shouldn't be taken aback but it still touched me that she'd do that, after _all_ of this. After _all_ I've done.

But all hope vanished yet again as reality settled itself in between it.

"And if the trial fails and I get executed?" I ask, slightly hopeful that they had a plan.

I frowned when both girls stared at each other, worry casted on their faces as it slowly dawned on them that they haven't formulated a Plan B just incase my suspicions came into fruition.

I sighed, disappointed but not surprised as I got my poncho and half-mask and got up. They called my name but I ignored all of it as I pulled out another tear gas canister and threw it at the gate, then I pulled out my rifle and walked into the compound.

The coughs of different soldiers echoed off the place. I went to the booth where a soldier tried to call for backup, but before he could even do so I knocked him out with the butt of my rifle.

I searched his pocket for the key to the place where they kept the care.

When my fingers finally felt a smooth surface of a warm weirdly shaped metal, I smiled and pulled out the key.

Turns out it wasn't just a _key._ It was a key ring.

And what was even worse is that they all looked the same. There weren't _anything_ that distincted one from the other.

 _Are you fucking kidding me?_

I groaned in frustration and just settled on shooting the lock. It exploded in front of me and the gate opened slightly at the impact of the gun. I then pressed a button to open the gate before running in and grabbing a Humvee.

I drove out and stop nearby where the girls at stood, huddling each other as they stared at me with wide eyes.

I grinned, hooking my mask to my pack. "Well then, I just took on Berk's _highest_ security on the country. So, what? Do I win?"

Both girls scowled, hands curling into fists as Alek got near me and gave me the hardest punch I've ever taken from her.

"That's for doing the most reckless thing I have ever seen you do so far," she says, then pulls me into a kiss before pulling back, "and that's for everything else."

I smiled and got back into the Humvee. My gaze shifted to Alek, to Berk, to the girls, them back to her.

"You sure about this? You can always stay. Besides, my father treats you like a daughter. And since I was in high school he'd always compare me to you, Sam and Eret," I say, however the last part was bit more for a mumble as the childhood memories slowly resurfaced again, haunting me as always even in the most randomest times possible.

Unfortunately, no matter how soft I say some things, Alek manages to hear them. She slowly walked to my side and grabbed my hand, intertwining it with hers. "I've never been so sure. Besides, I need to get out of Berk anyways."

I gave her one last look. I didn't know what the look conveyed but to me it was a one last chance type of thing. I wishes I could say it out loud, that she can still decide but I can't manage to move my mouth so I just stared at her longingly again like I did this morning before urging her to get in the car.

She stopped midtrack and looked back at Heather and Cami and ran back to them, bidding them her goodbyes before running back in to the car.

I pulled the brake and shifted to gear one, driving out and out to the gates.

While driving, I noticed at the side mirror two cars with soldiers inside them trailing behind us. I switched to gear two instead before turning right and going through the town square. I told Alek to hold on as I drove right through the town square, dodging pedestrians as best as I can.

The vehicle almost reached the gate, we were almost there, if only it weren't for the two Humvees who blocked the road that lead our way to it. The soldiers got out and aimed their guns toward us.

There were no hopes of backing up either because before I could even get my hand on the wheel, the two cars chasing us blocked our other way out as well. I looked to the right, only to see another Humvee coming in and inside the Humvee was my father, Gobber and my uncle.

A soldier gave him a megaphone and my father spoke, "It's over, Harper. Face it, you're surrounded. Surrender and we'll see if your sentence won't be that brash," he announced coldly.

My hands ached to grab the steering wheel and twist it to where he was, running him over and injuring him one more time but there was no way out for me to do this so I lay there still, my hands on my lap, scratching at the fabric covering the skin beneath.

I scanned my surroundings one more time before accepting the fact that there was, indeed, no way out. Sighing in defeat, I put the Humvee on brake and pulled out the key.

"I'm sorry, Alek," I apologized, head facing down at my lap as I felt Alek shuffled, her hands on my back and ran up and down.

She shook her head. I didn't know to what but it was enough of a comfortable, satisfying answer to me.

"I'll vouch for you, Harper," was the last thing she said before we got out.

The moment my foot made contact with the concrete, a soldier ordered me to drop my weapons. I unfastened my belt and felt it fall on the floor, the handgun and knife held by it clanged onto the ground. I then removed both of my rifles and dropped them as well, a bit more gentler this time.

I was then ordered to turn around, and I did so. I laid down on the floor, hearing Alek protest a little bit as the gang took her but she eventually gave in and followed them quietly, their footsteps decreasing.

The sound of footsteps approaching and metal handcuffs clanging quickly came into earshot. Before I could even blink, my hands were already handcuffed. I was then ordered to stand up again and face my father who approached me, struggling a bit on the crutch he leaned on to.

"Hey dad, fancy seeing you here," I casually say, my voice turning saccharine.

I heard him grunt, followed by a fist coming into view. The fist flew in front of me, getting closer, and closer by each minute till it kissed me square in the face and knocked me out.


	15. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: **TRIAL CAN'T JUSTIFY JUSTICE**

The moment Stephen's fists slammed onto Harper's cheek, stars filled Harper's vision and his knees buck. He let's out a groan of pain, falling onto his knees on the hard concrete as he makes an attempt to stand up from the impact. The soldier sees him struggling and helps him up, but the moment he's finally fixed his posture and got a good hold of himself, as it turns out, that tiny kind act was just an attempt of the soldier to help Stephen get another good punch out on him, which sends him falling back onto the ground in even much more pain than a moment ago.

The impact sent blood dripping out of his mouth. He groans at this, feeling the blood dribble down his cheek and onto his outfit. He makes another attempt at standing up, but fails when his knees buck. The only thing helping him up right now was the soldier, but his grip didn't really send a concerning tone, but rather a forceful one.

Stephen glances at Harper and glares at what his son has become. Harper is now coughing out blood and doing what seems to be a poor attempt at wiping the blood off his cheek by moving his head far enough to read the fabric covering his shoulder blades and wipe the blood off of that. It didn't work much, but Stephen didn't seem to care as he orders the guard to escort his son to jail and stomps off to fix himself a mug of mead.

Meanwhile, the gang spent the rest of their time huddled in a tent talking to each other. The other four, which were Sam, Eret and the twins, were busy laughing at Harper's situation while the other four were busy thinking, guilt clouding their mind as they remember the days before the apocalypse, back when Harper was a runt and was treated as such.

Alek for the most part really worried about Harper's state, since chances are Stephen's anger might fill to the brim and spill out in a form of murdering his son right there on the spot. Usually, the punishment would be exile but that wouldn't really make a difference since Harper is pretty much used to the wasteland, or whatevers outside there — he's practically lived in it.

So that leaves to murder. Not a great option at all.

"Finally, I didn't know Useless was Drake all along. I could've handled that shrimp with ease," Sam boasts, remembering the time he first encountered Harper. This makes the three other people he's seated with laugh, letting out words of encouragement to his statement.

Alek hears this and finally had enough.

"You know Snotlout, of course you can," she agrees, her voice sweet and coated with what seemed to be encouragement. Sam, being the dense muttonhead he is, thinks this actually is encouragement. So, he smiles smugly at this and crosses his arms stupor. The smile fades immediately however when Alek continues with her speech.

"You can take on Useless, a man with no conscience when it comes to killing, a man who shows no mercy to a contract he was given to finish, a man who kills people in the most brutal way possible. May I ask, can you take him?" Alek says, her tone now sharp and brash as her head tilts to the side. She stares at Sam angrily, waiting for an answer that Sam has yet to make.

Sam's mouth opened, and closed, and opened again. He couldn't think of something because his mind was blank, not with rage, not with anything, just blank. So when he opens his mouth again for the third time, ready to speak, Alek beats him to it and cuts him off with a raise of her hand.

"For Thor's sake! You didn't even pull the trigger when he specifically asked you to do so! If the roles were reversed, I'm confident he would've pulled it right before you can even blink," Alek confidently says, her tone cold and devoid of any emotion as she storms off from the quartet.

"What's her problem?" Rebecca asks, blind to the fact that Alek is correct.

"Beats me," Eret mutters under his breath, "anyways, you guys want to get a drink?"

While they were busy having fighting, the other three sat at the table next to them overheard the conversation. Heather, Cami, and Frank all turned around and glared at them, angry at the realization that they don't seem to care at all about anything related to Harper as long as it doesn't carry any positive aspect towards him. Even after the changed man he is today.

The four just shrugs this off and walks away, heading to the mead hall.

ALEK'S POV

It usually takes a lot more to really anger me, and one of those things weren't the gang. I've been around them ever since I was born in this godforsaken world, so to say that I'm used to them would be reasonable. I've grown accustomed to their behavior, have practically know what cheeky response, snarky remark, or nonsense questions they're about to say or ask, so how I reacted to Sam has shaken me a bit.

I've grown pretty immune to Sam these past few years, still am, but today I just snapped. Something was just pulling at me these past few days and somehow Sam managed to cut that pull lose and all my sense went blank and quickly switched to rage.

I've had enough of them. I mean, I eventually had to let it out, right? Sam has too much of an ego and I at least had to be the fire that burns the overflowing gasoline.

I shook my head. It doesn't matter, it's just Sam. I have much more important things to worry about, like Harper.

Gods, Harper. How he managed to stand up to his own father after all of the terrible insults that were hurled at him amazes me yet pains me at the same time. He receives backlash almost everyday, not even just from his father, but from the whole town. He just brushes most of this off, or acts as if it's just the wind blowing on his face.

Outside he may seem like he's unaffected and blasé to the words, but deep down I know he's in pain and has lost all hope ever since to prove himself to anyone that dares question him. Along with his hope, was his will to live. He wanted to die and to let out all of these frustrations yet no one was there to listen to him.

The sweet person that he was were buried by harsh insults, painful words, and much more colorful words that wouldn't really brighten up his day. He kept all of this bottled up, and alongside that, he kept who he truly is bottled up.

But I can see through the transparent bottle and I can see that the real Harper is clearly still in there despite getting mixed up with a bunch of other words people see him as and I will do anything to let the true him pour out and express itself in the highest form it can reach.

It would be a challenge, considering mixed in that formula are what I'd assume were a lot of traumatizing things he's been through in the wasteland. This has not only given him pain but also wounds — both seen and unseen — to carry for life and remember all that he's been through. Any wrong attempt could be adding salt to a still healing wound and I really wouldn't want that to happen.

In my angry, upset state I found myself walking. Walking towards the police station where Harper was meant to be held for trial. I hurriedly rushed inside and saw six officers, three roaming and three behind the counter, smoking and doing whatnot. One eyed me and asked how he can help. I ask for Harper's name and just scowls before grabbing a bunch of keys and guiding me to a narrow hallway.

After much walking, we finally reached Harper's cell. It was the last out of all the ones that were aligned. I breathed in and ran in front of it and my whole body ached at Harper's state.

He sat down at the corner, his back slumped on the wall as his eyes stared off into the distance, tears pooling in them and streaming down his cheeks while his hand clutched his knees close to him. He attempts to stifle his cries when he glances us quickly but it didn't work because occasionally moans and cries of pain would slip out.

He'd just cower and cover his head using his knees before crying out to it.

"Boy's been crying for an hour, pathetic huh?" the officer comments. I snap my head towards him and and send out a glare to his direction. He cowers back and leaves.

When he's finally out of sight I sat down on the ground and leaned on the metal bars that kept us apart. The coolness of it made me shiver and gave me goosebumps, but I set all discomfort aside as I attempt to talk to Harper.

"Harper," I call softly. No response.

"Harper," I try again. Still, nothing.

I opened my mouth to try again, but I stopped and stared at him. He was a mess, a wreck, and it hurt me even so much as to cast a glance. His lip was trembling as a single tear rolled down his cheek. I remained silent and stopped trying to talk him into any sort of conversation. If sitting in silence is what he wants, then I'll comply.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Harper asks, breaking the silence I was slowly growing accustomed to. My eyes snap open as I turn my head to look at him. He was staring right at me, eyes sad and glossy as he waits for a response.

"What do you mean?" I ask. What is he talking about?

"You're a smart girl, Hofferson. Figure it out," he responds, tone devoid of any emotion as he stares back into the distance. His legs stretched forward and his arms were crossed on his chest.

My eyebrows dipped in confusion, slightly pissed. Half at him because of what he just said and half at me for even asking what he meant because, of course, of fucking course I knew what he meant I just — I don't know. I sigh and shuffle closer to him, or at least as close as these dumb metal bars would allow, and reach out a hand.

Surprisingly, he shuffles closer and leans against my touch. My thumb gently grazed his cheek, feeling him wince. I gasp and remove my hand, revealing a bruise that blossomed on his whole left cheek in the shade of violets and reds.

"I'm sorry, Alek. I'm just tired," he apologizes and leans away from my touch, now leaning on my shoulder between the tiny gap that the metal bar provided.

It wasn't much but it was enough.

"Don't be, Harper. You have the right to get angry. With me, with your father, with everyone. Hell, even with the Gods!" I add.

He chuckles, his voice slightly hoarse from the amount of crying and the lack of talking he's done. He speaks again and this time his voice slowly went back to it's normal state, "I'm not so sure, Milady. Maybe Thor would strike me down with his haer, or Loki with his mischief," he jokes with a smile, finally looking at me.

I mentally gasped. From afar, it's undeniable how much of a mess Harper looks but up close? It was much more different. Harper's cheeks were stained with both bruises and tears and his lip was busted, a wound in between the bottom one with blood oozing out of it. The side of his mouth has dried off with what seemed to be blood, and I couldn't bare thinking about the fact that Stephen punched him to the point he choked out blood. The bags underneath his bloodshot eyes added touch to his already tired state.

I reached out my hand to tuck in the stray piece of hair that dangled on his forehead and this time, he reluctantly leans into my touch, now that there aren't any bruises blocking it, and takes a hold of my wrist. He gives him knuckles a kiss and rubs them.

He pulls me closer and gives me a hug. It was hard since there were long cold sticks stuck between us but it was enough for his arms to reach my back, and mine to reach his, and run soothing circles on it with our fingers. His hug was sad and desperate as he clung to me for dear life. I leaned to him and just let him to do so.

"Harper," I breathe out, losing oxygen but it didn't really matter much since the one cutting it off was Harper however I do love to not die, especially not in a very dire situation like this.

He loosens his hug but not enough to let me go. After a few seconds he hugs me even much tighter and angles his head to lean on my shoulder as he cries quietly into it. My hands trailed up from his back to his head and played with his hair, twirling and un-twirling it in between my fingers as he lets out sobs.

A loud cough from behind us broke us out of our hug. The same office from a while ago stood there, his hand on his hips as his foot tapped in impatience, waiting for us to fully break apart. I glared at him before giving Harper a quick kiss.

When we were already halfway through, I looked back to see Harper still leaning on the bars, smiling at me. I reciprocated it and watched his smile grow bigger.

When I got out, Stephen was out there waiting by the door. I opened my mouth to greet him only to be pulled back harshly by his grasp.

Not a very good substitute for hello or how are you but this would do.

"What are you doing in there?!" he asks, pulling me closer to his face.

"I visited your son, you know, the one you hated and was ashamed for years to come," I retort before casually walking off away from him.

—

The days counted down to Harper's trial and most of Berk wanted him exiled while others wanted him dead. Either way the two options were no different to Harper as he hears the shouts coming from whatever room they were kept in. He was escorted out of his cell and pushed into a police cruiser where they drive to the great hall that was converted into a courtroom.

Harper got out of the car and walked inside, the guards trailing behind him and clutching his hands tightly, watching out for any next moves he'll attempt in order to escape.

He was pushed in front of the hall, where in front of him, all of Berk stood, sneering and degrading him as much as they can but this didn't faze him, not even one bit. Once it would and he'd try to conceal it with an emotionless face but this time he was as emotionless outside as he was inside. He lets out a cough when the crowd finally silenced and faced his father alongside with his other lieutenants.

"Alright! Settle down. We are here once again to judge one of our people," Stephen says, silencing the room completely by raising a hand up.

"My son, Harper Haddock," Stephen introduces. Murmurs and chatters of whatnot bursted through the room upon this as Stephen once again makes an attempt to silence the crowd.

Stephen's other hand raised and at this, the room fell silent. Harper scanned the room, ignoring every hateful glare sent towards his way as he searched for two people in mind: his mother and Alek. His heart skips a bit when he sees them at the very far left, seated on a chair and sending heartwarming smiles towards his way when he finally acknowledged their stares and presence. Behind the two sat the rest of the gang, with Heather, Cami and Frank displaying neutral looks, not really fazed by what's happening while the rest of them glared at him.

"Now, as you all know, my son is the elusive Night Fury. A hired gun in the wasteland, a man with no conscience whatsoever. What do you think his verdict should be?" Stephen continues.

The room erupted into yells and screams, all directed at the boy that stood in the middle. Banish him, exile him, kill him. All of that didn't seem to faze the boy upfront because that's all that he's ever been doing half of his life. All the words just mushed into chaotic nothings as they went in his left ear and out through his right.

He looked completely calm and even managed to crack out a smile at the amount of verdict's being thrown at him and this is enough to creep out all the police officers that stood on guard. They all stood, tense and a bit weirded out as to how he can stay so calm in such a situation with the crowd sentencing him to his fate.

Stephen stared at the mass of people, screaming together completely different yet so similar words. He opened his mouth, ready to put in his piece only to shut it when Harper speaks up before him.

"So it's either banishment or death?" Harper announces before letting out a bitter laugh that slowly transitioned into a hysterical one.

Everybody, including his parents and Alek, watched uncomfortably at seeing Harper like this. The guards had their nightsticks ready just in case this is a diversion that will lead him to his escape.

Harper's laugh eventually died down and when it finally came to a full stop, he stood straight and glared at the whole crowd. "I'm a walking dead man so putting an end to that physically won't make any difference! I've been shot, stabbed, beaten, tortured, you name it, for the last five years! I'm actually surprised myself I'm still walking," Harper announced coldly, giving the crowd a once-over as he spun and stopping right at his father, staring at him dead in the eye.

"I've never felt I've belonged in here either, especially before the apocalypse happened, so banishment is practically the same thing as death since the wasteland is death waiting for your demise," he adds on, a sinister smile on his face as he stares at his father a bit more before facing the audience again.

"So, here you are! Come on, what's my verdict? Death or exile?" he asks the crowd. Whenever his eyes would even so much as to glance any individuals way, they'd step back and cower away, not used to such intensity. Harper chuckles and looks back at his father, waiting for an answer. "Stephen, go on, you are to decide here!"

Everybody in the room was silent and dared not to speak, not even a little. No one in that room has ever seen Harper like this. This was far from who they remember Harper as. Laughing like a lunatic, not afraid of death itself, not afraid to stand his ground, and most of all, disrespect his father. If anything, to gain his father's respect was one of the things he's aspired the most for in life.

Stephen clutched the sides of his table, holding in his anger with the best that he can. He glances at his wife to see her stare at him pitifully. It slowly transitioned into anger and eventually she didn't even bother looking anymore.

The hall doors burst open before he could even speak, and in came an injured shoulder clutching his bleeding arm while several other injured soldiers as well trailed behind him.

Stephen first, a bit shocked. Both at Harper's behavior at now at the soldiers before running to them, "what happened?!" he asks.

"It's the Outcast, sir. They managed to breach one of the walls. We are holding them off, luckily most of the citizens were in the hall so we didn't have to evacuate anybody," one of them spoke.

"All men who can fight, line up to the armory. Berk is under attack!" Stephen orders and the guards quickly let go of Harper to attend to the other problem going. Stephen then runs to the armory with Gerald and Seth following behind.

While everyone was distracted, Harper took the opportunity to pick open the lock with the bobby pin he got from the hair of one of the people he killed, thinking that it'd come in handy one day.

And that day was today.

The officers immediately saw this and quickly got their nightsticks and tasers out as they ran towards Harper. Harper dodges the first officer's attempt by moving his hand to the right. He pulls his arm in and placed it in a lock, elbowing it. The officer lets out a scream of pain once he felt his arm break. On the other hand, the other officer makes several attempts of tazing Harper only to fail miserably with each and every one of them. When he juts out the item to taze Harper one final time, sure that this would be it, Harper immediately pulls up the still distracted man who just broke his arm and used him as a shield from the taser, watching him get tazed instead.

The officer, shocked at this, stepped back. Harper throws the body off and punches the distracted man on the jaw. The man then clutches his jaw, still in shock, only for Harper to kick him in the groin, sending him falling back on the ground and crawling in pain towards the shocked crowd.

Two soldiers quickly ran to Harper's side, their rifles up and aimed at him. Stephen came in between them as he stared at his son in astonishment.

"You said anyone who could fight, right? Well, here I am," Harper says.

The guards pushed the rifle closer only for Stephen orders them to lower it and drop it completely on the ground.

Not hesitating any longer, Stephen quickly asks, "Gobber, where's his gear?"

Gerald walked towards them and handed Harper's gear. Stephen took it and passed it to Harper who gave him a dumbfounded stare.

"Well? Are you going to fight for your home?" Stephen asks, raising a brow.

Harper scowls, "As I've said, I never belonged here," he states in a tone of finality, grabbing his gear from his father's grasp and shuffling in it. He cocked his rifle and slings it before speaking, "but it's my mother and Alek's home that's filled with a few people decent enough to start a new society that's worth fighting for," he finishes before walking away.

For a moment, everyone was silent. The hall was silent. Even the people outside were, despite the chaos the soldier just ensued. Then gunshots came firing outside making Harper sigh as he pushes the doors open, grabs his half-mask, cocks his rifle before slinging it, and walks into the warzone occurring right before his eyes with the gang and all of Berk trailing behind.


	16. Chapter 15

_**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**_ : **ORDER OR CHAOS**

 _trigger/content warning: there's a small assault/rape scene along the way. just a heads up!_

Gunfire echoed through the town as Harper and the gang splitted up with Stephen and his other accomplices to stop the Outcast from further entering Berk. Their goal was to keep them out and away as far and as much as possible while Stephen would guard the supplies and keep any lingering Outcast along the way away from it.

They ran through Berk, eyeing the buildings burnt or destroyed relentlessly by the Outcasts walking around. Up ahead, they saw a few of them just exiting a house while attempting to carry a large amount of supplies in bags. Harper pulls out his gun and starts fires while running towards them.

Harper managed to knock one of them down, this caused the other three to drop whatever they were carrying and return the favor back. Harper took cover behind the brick wall as an Outcast pins him down. The gang were about to open fire only to pause when Harper pulls out a grenade and tosses it over the wall.

He hears a couple of them shout _take cover_ but it was already too late as the bomb exploded mid-speech of one of the Outcasts. As he jumps over the wall, the gang looks at Harper before following behind, staring at the decapitated bodies bleeding and oozing with viscous blood.

However, one of them survived, clutching their leg as he tried to limp to his exit. Harper blocks his way and stares at him. The Outcast lets out a terrified shriek, clutching his leg as if Harper's stare was stabbing it. Harper only shrugs at this before stomping on his neck, watching the life slowly fade away from his eyes. The gang watched in horror as Harper, without any emotion nor conscience as usual, kill another man's life right in front of them.

Once finished, they made a right turn and saw a makeshift cover built by the soldiers who returned fire to the Outcast pouring from the walls. The gang took cover as well before opening fire and joining in.

"Sam, Frank, Trevor, keep on suppressing them. Heather and Cami take the right, Rebecca and Eret take the left. Alek, you're with me, we need to plan this!" Harper yells through the gunfire as he pulls out some kind of brick.

"Since when did you carry bombs?" Alek asks.

Harper groans, "No time to talk! Do what I say, _now_!"

"Wait, I'm not taking orders from _you_ , fishbone!" Sam protests, crossing his arms in defiance despite the chaos ensuing.

Harpers sighs and rolls his eyes before straightening up and pulling out a gun, aiming it at Sam's thighs. "I don't have time for this. Do it or I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for the rest of your life!"

Sam yelps out in fear and jumps out of cover, firing towards the Outcasts up ahead. Harper grins at this before taking cover behind a Humvee that's just parked near a wall. Alek follows suit, opening fire as well, pausing from time to time to pull out another magazine.

Harper pops his head out from behind the Humvee and checks the corner, seeing a walkway that was still intact and standing near the wall. He scans the place, finding for a ladder or some sort of staircase and smiles when he sees one along the far left. He tells Alek to cover for him as he runs to the staircase and climbs up it, noticing but paying no mind to the dead bodies of guards and other people along the way. He then takes cover from the Outcasts firing at him and while doing so, he places the wires in the timer and arms it.

He runs as quickly as he can, trying his best to outrun the 30 seconds he's set up. The bomb detonated the moment he's halfway through the staircase, causing the whole walkway, including the staircase itself, to collapse. The soldiers that were alive and still stuck in there tried to kill the Outcasts instead since it was impossible to climb up through the ruble.

They were told to surrender but they didn't give in and instead brought their rifles up, only to be gunned down instantly. With that happening, they tried to radio in but heard no response from their leader who was responsible and in charge of a squad with Stephen.

"Something's wrong, two-two do you copy over?" a soldier radioes in.

Coughing came from the transmission as everyone quieted down to give it a better listen. "this is…two-two, we are pinned...down. Mayor Had- Mayor Haddock got taken. Alo- we are requesting reinfor-" the line didn't finish as a loud explosion came through followed by a grunt and a much longer static.

The transmission ended, and it was pretty bad, statics and loud noises making it harder for everyone to hear everything clearly, but they got the gist of it eventually and started taking action. Harper heard all of this, however, and placed everything together the moment he heard his fathers name.

"Where are they?" he asks the soldier.

"By the clinic. They checked in saying that they were checking on the clinic to see if the medic was still up. That's when we also lost contact before you guys came here," the soldier responds.

"Alright, you guys go ahead. I need to do something."

"And _where_ are you going?" Eret interrupts, stopping Harper in his tracks.

Harper points up the building using his springfield, up there. I'll see if I can cover you guys," Harper responds, proceeding to head over it only to be pulled back harshly by Eret, his hands taking a fistful of his clothes and holding him close.

"Not so fast, fishbone. _I'll_ take it from here. You go down there!" Eret counters, pulling out a M21 with a scope and silencer attached to it and pushing Harper to the direction where he wanted him to work on.

Harper takes a moment to inspect Eret's gun, and Eret being a show-off allows him to do so, despite the situation they are in. Harper notices that the quality of the rifle seems to be damaged, the receiver along with the barrel were already starting to rust. Harper then disagrees, pointing to the near-to-poor-excuse of a gun, "No chances. Your rifle might jam up there and that'll be a liability. I'm going up there and _that's_ final," Harper says, dismissing Eret completely before striding towards the building, leaving the Eret behind before he could protest any further.

"Come on, we'll argue later! Now is not the time," Alek urges, running to the clinic with the gang minus Eret who was still muttering about how " _this gun doesn't suck,"_ trailing behind slowly.

Harper paused in front of a door, about to open it only to stop and pull back his hand and foot mid-air. He then walks to the side and sees a window, smashes it with the butt of his rifle, and climbs through that instead. There was an apartment door instead and Harper quickly went in there after, running up the stairs before opening yet again another door that lead to the roof.

Gunfire echoed through Berk as Harper made his way to the edge of the roof, leaning flat against it. Pulling out three mags and setting it beside him, he adjusts his scope and places his rifle right beside him as well. He then opens his bag, finding a tripod. Once he felt the material, he takes it and hooks it up to the rifle. Licking his forefinger, he brought it up to feel the wind, feeling it come hard from the left. He then adjusts the scope, pulling out the tripod and mounting it on the wall.

He scopes the surroundings and sees multiple dead bodies from both parties partaking in the gruesome event. His gaze shifted to the clinic, seeing it being garrisoned by a bunch of Outcasts. To the right, he sees the gang running in and while looking at them he realizes that Alek was already looking at her, so he waves at her to which she responds with a nod.

As the gang ran behind cover, someone took the spotlight instead. The man had an almost similar figure to his father and they both had beards well, the only difference is his father's beard is much more well cared of compared to this mans. Alvin stood there, looking around. His chest was covered with armor and he had spiked spaulders on each side of his shoulder.

He walked around with a megaphone in hand. Another man, much shorter, stood beside him. The other man, who Harper then realizes was just Savage, held a soldier with his knife pointed right at his throat.

"I hope you're not too preoccupied with what just happened, but as you can tell I have your prisoners! Including your Mayor," Alvin cheerily announces through the megaphone as if he were just stating the upcoming weather of the week.

"So why don't we, _how do you say this_ ," he pauses and feigns thinking, his thumb on his chin as he pretends to be in deep in thought before grabbing the megaphone and screaming through it, "negotiate before this!" Alvin gestures towards the soldier in Savage's grasp.

"Happens, Savage," Alvin mumbles, as if this was a weekly occurring thing. Kind of true but, nevertheless, bothersome.

Savage nods and slits the soldier's throat and Harper watches as he collapsed on the floor, gurgling blood as he struggled to get out of his bonds and cover his wound. Savage kicked his body off the stairs the moment it went limp, watching the helpless body roll down onto the dirt.

"Bring another one!" Alvin orders and Savage nods, motioning his hands up and in came in another man who brought in Gerald, struggling in the man's grasp.

"Whe' I'm out of this, I'm goin' to make sure you lot will walk with yer heads up yer arses!" Gerald taunts, his hooked hand raised up in a form of defiance as he's pushed to the front.

 **trigger/content warning: sexual assault**

"Well, I'm waiting!" Alvin says through the megaphone. Alek waited for a couple of seconds walking out of her hiding, both hands raised up as she stands near him but far enough to keep a reasonable distance from him.

"What are you demands then?" she asks.

"Ahhh, simple really," Alvin says, ogling the blonde from top to bottom with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "You _all_ live in Berk or maybe you can come with me and by my personal _assistant_ ," Alvin suggests and Alek realizes that paperwork may not be the only thing Alvin will want her to assist him with.

Alek's face contorts into one of disgust as she struggles out of Alvin's grasp. Alvin chuckles at this and holds her even closer to him, the distance between them now gone as his hands found his way to her body, raking up and down her stomach and lightly grazing her chest. Alek shudders and struggles to get out of his grasp but every attempt only makes his arm, that was no around her waist, pull her even tighter to him.

She attempts to headbutt Alvin and this takes him by surprise, but this was still of no use as Alvin still has the upper hand and now nibbled on her ear, giving her waist a tight squeeze.

"Feisty one, too. _Oh,_ I am going to _love_ this!" Alvin whispers in delight and Alek tears up at this, at the thought of Alvin's hands on her waists and eventually getting the fabric off. Any thought of going further from there made her whole body shudder in disgust and she tried her best to squirm and wriggle out of his grasp, but it was all of no use.

Alvin was having the time of his life, completely forgetting the scene going on before him so when blood splattered all over him, his face and his new toy, he snapped out of his trance turned around, loosening his grip on Alek's waist. Just in time, he witnesses Savage fall onto the floor, his left eye no longer intact and now replaced with nothing but emptiness. Two Outcasts came forward to help him up but before they could even get a hold of his arm, they were shot directly at the heart. The two collapsed beside Savage's limp body. Three more came but they, too, were also sniped.

Alvin let go of Alek completely, throwing her onto the floor. Alek crawled back and hid behind a stray sheet of galvanized iron, crying to herself as Alvin tried to find the source of the thing that were killing his men one by one. He looked around his surroundings and noticed a light reflecting. Squinting his eyes, he inspects closer only to be shot by the leg. Another distinct whistling echoed and, before he could even notice, it shot his pelvis. He clutches it and limps back to where he left Alek only to come face to face with the gang, weapons pointed at Alvin. The guys ran, finding the rest of the prisoners while Cami and Rebecca were left to guard Alvin.

Heather searched for Alek, finding her seated behind the sheet of galvanized iron, scraping words onto the concrete as she silently cried. Heather sits down and hugs her from behind, her hands running up and down Alek's back as Alek tensed, before reluctantly leaning into Heather's touch. Heather trailed her hands to Alek's stomach and hugged her from there, letting Alek cry.

Out of nowhere, a figure came in and kicked Alvin on the face. Alvin pulls out his knife, ready to put it to use only to fail when Harper headbutts him and makes him woozy. Harper took the knife from Alvin's grasp and cuts off his ring finger with ease. Alvin let's out a groan at this and Harper takes it as a welcoming sign to cut off his pinky finger.

Before Harper could even cut off any other finger Alvin still has left, Trevor and Frank pulled him back as Alvin clutched his bleeding hand, ignoring the other injuries he received. Harper struggled from their grasp only to feel his stomach drop at the scene he saw at the corner of his eye. There, to his left, sat Alek hugging Heather tightly as Heather whispered soothing words in her ear, none of which seemed to work so she just proceeds to running her hand up and down her back.

Most of his anger died down after seeing Alek like that so he shrugs off the boys completely and ran towards her, kneeling next to her.

Harper reached out his hand to her shoulder and Alek shrieked at this. He quickly retracted it back, holding his hand as if it just poisoned the one person he loved in this world. Alek looked behind, her tense shoulders slumping when she realizes that it was just Harper. It wasn't really appropriate to smile, but he did when she hugged her tightly and didn't give him any chance to speak. Heather smiles at this and watches Harper awkwardly try to help Alek find a much more comfortable position in the hug and when he finally did, he just whispers to her comforting words and buries his head in her neck.

They both got up, Alek's whole arm wrapped around one of Harper's making Harper chuckle at this. Alek pleads her not to leave him and Harper tells her to _relax_ , and that he's _not going to_ , as they leave and left the gang behind.

When Alek and Harper finally disappeared from everybody's view, they all glared back at Alvin who helplessly tried to keep himself together. Stephen got out, untying the last piece of rope before pointing and accusatory finger at Alvin, "after everything we've been through, _old friend,_ after all the good things you did when we were children. I sent you to prison when you killed someone to protect our town when clearly you've gone insane!" Stephen informs.

"What can I say, Stoick? Berk has _always_ been _my_ home," Alvin proclaims, a sinister smile on his face.

"Not anymore and it will _never_ be again. Take him away!" Stephen orders as the soldiers who were held captive stepped in and escorted Alvin out of the scene.

Another squad came in and helped in securing the area before one of their radio's buzzed in, "We got them on the run!"

The radio operated nodded, telling his squad leader about this. He just nods and sends three men to stay at the clinic and help out with the rest in the push to retake Berk.

The gang looked around to see Berk in a ruin but they felt at home and content because, _hey_ , they still had their home.

Or at least, what's left of it to be rebuilt.


	17. Chapter 16

_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**_ : **YOU CAN'T UNDO THE PAST**

 **HARPER'S POV**

Everything was already going accordingly, it was all coming _**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**_ : ORDER OR CHAOS

 _trigger/content warning: there's a small assault/rape scene along the way. just a heads up!_

Gunfire echoed through the town as Harper and the gang splitted up with Stephen and his other accomplices to stop the Outcast from further entering Berk. Their goal was to keep them out and away as far and as much as possible while Stephen would guard the supplies and keep any lingering Outcast along the way away from it.

They ran through Berk, eyeing the buildings burnt or destroyed relentlessly by the Outcasts walking around. Up ahead, they saw a few of them just exiting a house while attempting to carry a large amount of supplies in bags. Harper pulls out his gun and starts fires while running towards them.

Harper managed to knock one of them down, this caused the other three to drop whatever they were carrying and return the favor back. Harper took cover behind the brick wall as an Outcast pins him down. The gang were about to open fire only to pause when Harper pulls out a grenade and tosses it over the wall.

He hears a couple of them shout _take cover_ but it was already too late as the bomb exploded mid-speech of one of the Outcasts. As he jumps over the wall, the gang looks at Harper before following behind, staring at the decapitated bodies bleeding and oozing with viscous blood.

However, one of them survived, clutching their leg as he tried to limp to his exit. Harper blocks his way and stares at him. The Outcast lets out a terrified shriek, clutching his leg as if Harper's stare was stabbing it. Harper only shrugs at this before stomping on his neck, watching the life slowly fade away from his eyes. The gang watched in horror as Harper, without any emotion nor conscience as usual, kill another man's life right in front of them.

Once finished, they made a right turn and saw a makeshift cover built by the soldiers who returned fire to the Outcast pouring from the walls. The gang took cover as well before opening fire and joining in.

"Sam, Frank, Trevor, keep on suppressing them. Heather and Cami take the right, Rebecca and Eret take the left. Alek, you're with me, we need to plan this!" Harper yells through the gunfire as he pulls out some kind of brick.

"Since when did you carry bombs?" Alek asks.

Harper groans, "No time to talk! Do what I say, _now_!"

"Wait, I'm not taking orders from _you_ , fishbone!" Sam protests, crossing his arms in defiance despite the chaos ensuing.

Harpers sighs and rolls his eyes before straightening up and pulling out a gun, aiming it at Sam's thighs. "I don't have time for this. Do it or I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for the rest of your life!"

Sam yelps out in fear and jumps out of cover, firing towards the Outcasts up ahead. Harper grins at this before taking cover behind a Humvee that's just parked near a wall. Alek follows suit, opening fire as well, pausing from time to time to pull out another magazine.

Harper pops his head out from behind the Humvee and checks the corner, seeing a walkway that was still intact and standing near the wall. He scans the place, finding for a ladder or some sort of staircase and smiles when he sees one along the far left. He tells Alek to cover for him as he runs to the staircase and climbs up it, noticing but paying no mind to the dead bodies of guards and other people along the way. He then takes cover from the Outcasts firing at him and while doing so, he places the wires in the timer and arms it.

He runs as quickly as he can, trying his best to outrun the 30 seconds he's set up. The bomb detonated the moment he's halfway through the staircase, causing the whole walkway, including the staircase itself, to collapse. The soldiers that were alive and still stuck in there tried to kill the Outcasts instead since it was impossible to climb up through the ruble.

They were told to surrender but they didn't give in and instead brought their rifles up, only to be gunned down instantly. With that happening, they tried to radio in but heard no response from their leader who was responsible and in charge of a squad with Stephen.

"Something's wrong, two-two do you copy over?" a soldier radioes in.

Coughing came from the transmission as everyone quieted down to give it a better listen. "this is…two-two, we are pinned...down. Mayor Had- Mayor Haddock got taken. Alo- we are requesting reinfor-" the line didn't finish as a loud explosion came through followed by a grunt and a much longer static.

The transmission ended, and it was pretty bad, statics and loud noises making it harder for everyone to hear everything clearly, but they got the gist of it eventually and started taking action. Harper heard all of this, however, and placed everything together the moment he heard his fathers name.

"Where are they?" he asks the soldier.

"By the clinic. They checked in saying that they were checking on the clinic to see if the medic was still up. That's when we also lost contact before you guys came here," the soldier responds.

"Alright, you guys go ahead. I need to do something."

"And _where_ are you going?" Eret interrupts, stopping Harper in his tracks.

Harper points up the building using his springfield, up there. I'll see if I can cover you guys," Harper responds, proceeding to head over it only to be pulled back harshly by Eret, his hands taking a fistful of his clothes and holding him close.

"Not so fast, fishbone. _I'll_ take it from here. You go down there!" Eret counters, pulling out a M21 with a scope and silencer attached to it and pushing Harper to the direction where he wanted him to work on.

Harper takes a moment to inspect Eret's gun, and Eret being a show-off allows him to do so, despite the situation they are in. Harper notices that the quality of the rifle seems to be damaged, the receiver along with the barrel were already starting to rust. Harper then disagrees, pointing to the near-to-poor-excuse of a gun, "No chances. Your rifle might jam up there and that'll be a liability. I'm going up there and _that's_ final," Harper says, dismissing Eret completely before striding towards the building, leaving the Eret behind before he could protest any further.

"Come on, we'll argue later! Now is not the time," Alek urges, running to the clinic with the gang minus Eret who was still muttering about how " _this gun doesn't suck,"_ trailing behind slowly.

Harper paused in front of a door, about to open it only to stop and pull back his hand and foot mid-air. He then walks to the side and sees a window, smashes it with the butt of his rifle, and climbs through that instead. There was an apartment door instead and Harper quickly went in there after, running up the stairs before opening yet again another door that lead to the roof.

Gunfire echoed through Berk as Harper made his way to the edge of the roof, leaning flat against it. Pulling out three mags and setting it beside him, he adjusts his scope and places his rifle right beside him as well. He then opens his bag, finding a tripod. Once he felt the material, he takes it and hooks it up to the rifle. Licking his forefinger, he brought it up to feel the wind, feeling it come hard from the left. He then adjusts the scope, pulling out the tripod and mounting it on the wall.

He scopes the surroundings and sees multiple dead bodies from both parties partaking in the gruesome event. His gaze shifted to the clinic, seeing it being garrisoned by a bunch of Outcasts. To the right, he sees the gang running in and while looking at them he realizes that Alek was already looking at her, so he waves at her to which she responds with a nod.

As the gang ran behind cover, someone took the spotlight instead. The man had an almost similar figure to his father and they both had beards well, the only difference is his father's beard is much more well cared of compared to this mans. Alvin stood there, looking around. His chest was covered with armor and he had spiked spaulders on each side of his shoulder.

He walked around with a megaphone in hand. Another man, much shorter, stood beside him. The other man, who Harper then realizes was just Savage, held a soldier with his knife pointed right at his throat.

"I hope you're not too preoccupied with what just happened, but as you can tell I have your prisoners! Including your Mayor," Alvin cheerily announces through the megaphone as if he were just stating the upcoming weather of the week.

"So why don't we, _how do you say this_ ," he pauses and feigns thinking, his thumb on his chin as he pretends to be in deep in thought before grabbing the megaphone and screaming through it, "negotiate before this!" Alvin gestures towards the soldier in Savage's grasp.

"Happens, Savage," Alvin mumbles, as if this was a weekly occurring thing. Kind of true but, nevertheless, bothersome.

Savage nods and slits the soldier's throat and Harper watches as he collapsed on the floor, gurgling blood as he struggled to get out of his bonds and cover his wound. Savage kicked his body off the stairs the moment it went limp, watching the helpless body roll down onto the dirt.

"Bring another one!" Alvin orders and Savage nods, motioning his hands up and in came in another man who brought in Gerald, struggling in the man's grasp.

"Whe' I'm out of this, I'm goin' to make sure you lot will walk with yer heads up yer arses!" Gerald taunts, his hooked hand raised up in a form of defiance as he's pushed to the front.

 **trigger/content warning: attempted rape**

"Well, I'm waiting!" Alvin says through the megaphone. Alek waited for a couple of seconds walking out of her hiding, both hands raised up as she stands near him but far enough to keep a reasonable distance from him.

"What are you demands then?" she asks.

"Ahhh, simple really," Alvin says, ogling the blonde from top to bottom with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "You _all_ live in Berk or maybe you can come with me and by my personal _assistant_ ," Alvin suggests and Alek realizes that paperwork may not be the only thing Alvin will want her to assist him with.

Alek's face contorts into one of disgust as she struggles out of Alvin's grasp. Alvin chuckles at this and holds her even closer to him, the distance between them now gone as his hands found his way to her body, raking up and down her stomach and lightly grazing her chest. Alek shudders and struggles to get out of his grasp but every attempt only makes his arm, that was no around her waist, pull her even tighter to him.

She attempts to headbutt Alvin and this takes him by surprise, but this was still of no use as Alvin still has the upper hand and now nibbled on her ear, giving her waist a tight squeeze.

"Feisty one, too. _Oh,_ I am going to _love_ this!" Alvin whispers in delight and Alek tears up at this, at the thought of Alvin's hands on her waists and eventually getting the fabric off. Any thought of going further from there made her whole body shudder in disgust and she tried her best to squirm and wriggle out of his grasp, but it was all of no use.

Alvin was having the time of his life, completely forgetting the scene going on before him so when blood splattered all over him, his face and his new toy, he snapped out of his trance turned around, loosening his grip on Alek's waist. Just in time, he witnesses Savage fall onto the floor, his left eye no longer intact and now replaced with nothing but emptiness. Two Outcasts came forward to help him up but before they could even get a hold of his arm, they were shot directly at the heart. The two collapsed beside Savage's limp body. Three more came but they, too, were also sniped.

Alvin let go of Alek completely, throwing her onto the floor. Alek crawled back and hid behind a stray sheet of galvanized iron, crying to herself as Alvin tried to find the source of the thing that were killing his men one by one. He looked around his surroundings and noticed a light reflecting. Squinting his eyes, he inspects closer only to be shot by the leg. Another distinct whistling echoed and, before he could even notice, it shot his pelvis. He clutches it and limps back to where he left Alek only to come face to face with the gang, weapons pointed at Alvin. The guys ran, finding the rest of the prisoners while Cami and Rebecca were left to guard Alvin.

Heather searched for Alek, finding her seated behind the sheet of galvanized iron, scraping words onto the concrete as she silently cried. Heather sits down and hugs her from behind, her hands running up and down Alek's back as Alek tensed, before reluctantly leaning into Heather's touch. Heather trailed her hands to Alek's stomach and hugged her from there, letting Alek cry.

Out of nowhere, a figure came in and kicked Alvin on the face. Alvin pulls out his knife, ready to put it to use only to fail when Harper headbutts him and makes him woozy. Harper took the knife from Alvin's grasp and cuts off his ring finger with ease. Alvin let's out a groan at this and Harper takes it as a welcoming sign to cut off his pinky finger.

Before Harper could even cut off any other finger Alvin still has left, Trevor and Frank pulled him back as Alvin clutched his bleeding hand, ignoring the other injuries he received. Harper struggled from their grasp only to feel his stomach drop at the scene he saw at the corner of his eye. There, to his left, sat Alek hugging Heather tightly as Heather whispered soothing words in her ear, none of which seemed to work so she just proceeds to running her hand up and down her back.

Most of his anger died down after seeing Alek like that so he shrugs off the boys completely and ran towards her, kneeling next to her.

Harper reached out his hand to her shoulder and Alek shrieked at this. He quickly retracted it back, holding his hand as if it just poisoned the one person he loved in this world. Alek looked behind, her tense shoulders slumping when she realizes that it was just Harper. It wasn't really appropriate to smile, but he did when she hugged her tightly and didn't give him any chance to speak. Heather smiles at this and watches Harper awkwardly try to help Alek find a much more comfortable position in the hug and when he finally did, he just whispers to her comforting words and buries his head in her neck.

They both got up, Alek's whole arm wrapped around one of Harper's making Harper chuckle at this. Alek pleads her not to leave him and Harper tells her to _relax_ , and that he's _not going to_ , as they leave and left the gang behind.

When Alek and Harper finally disappeared from everybody's view, they all glared back at Alvin who helplessly tried to keep himself together. Stephen got out, untying the last piece of rope before pointing and accusatory finger at Alvin, "after everything we've been through, _old friend,_ after all the good things you did when we were children. I sent you to prison when you killed someone to protect our town when clearly you've gone insane!" Stephen informs.

"What can I say, Stoick? Berk has _always_ been _my_ home," Alvin proclaims, a sinister smile on his face.

"Not anymore and it will _never_ be again. Take him away!" Stephen orders as the soldiers who were held captive stepped in and escorted Alvin out of the scene.

Another squad came in and helped in securing the area before one of their radio's buzzed in, "We got them on the run!"

The radio operated nodded, telling his squad leader about this. He just nods and sends three men to stay at the clinic and help out with the rest in the push to retake Berk.

The gang looked around to see Berk in a ruin but they felt at home and content because, _hey_ , they still had their home.

Or at least, what's left of it to be rebuilt.

Everything was going into plan but when I saw what Alvin was doing to Alek, how he treated her as if she were just some object, I felt every single thing in me snap. I lost it and somehow I lost myself as well. Shooting Savage's eye off the spot? Aiming for roughly five of his men right at the heart? I can't even recognize _me_ anymore. I just couldn't watch him treat Alek like she's one of his toys, so I just _had_ to. Thank Gods I didn't let Eret sit his ass there, he might have a hard time killing Savage and would shoot Gerald instead.

All that aside, the whole cutting off fingers and shooting both Alvin's leg and pelvis? It didn't seem like Harper anymore. To me, at least. Good thing the guys pulled me off or else his body would've been a playground to my hand. The moment I saw Alek, I felt every anger in me vanish as I rushed to her side, but alongside that came in the hurt when she shrieked and tensed away from my simple touch. I've came to a conclusion that she's traumatized and would try my best to work around it.

When we finally fled from the scene, she still couldn't stop crying, her legs were trembling and each step we took her hands can't seem to let go of mine. Not that I'm complaining, but with a pace like this we really won't have the time to get out of there so I settled into carrying her. She protested at first, letting out a yelp but eventually gave in, her hands wrapping around my neck as I walked through what's left of Berk.

"Harper," she croaks, her voice hoarse after all the crying. She brings her hand up to wipe stray tears and I hummed in response, looking down at her softly.

"You alright? I should've been there."

m"No, you were there. You saved me from…" she paused to find the right words, probably reliving the scene right now so I shushed her. She settled back to walking after a few moments, her grip on my arm still intact but that didn't really matter.

We stopped in our tracks when a Humvee stopped right in front of us. Stepping back a bit, we watched as Gerald and Stephen stepped out from it.

"Stephen," I say curtly.

A look of surprised washed over him at the recognition, then it was followed by hurt. Sighing, he spoke, "I know what I did back there was wrong.l

"You mean stupid _and_ idiotic. Well, of course, I mean, your pride and respect is much more important than your own _son._ "

—

Stephen looked at his son in shock, gritting his teeth and his hand curling into a fist. It was as if every time he made an attempt to apologize, to show that he actually loves his son, Harper would find a way to change that all over again. They're like fire and gasoline, always finding a way to light each other up until all that's left is a mess.

"Don't you say that! Of course I have a reputation to keep. Besides, I'm running a town, Harper. I'm always busy and those inventions of yours always take up my schedule since _I_ have to clean up your mess!" Stephen retorts.

Harper, taken back by what his father has just said, held Alek's hand a bit too hard for Alek's liking, causing her to let out a squeak. He apologizes immediately once this was brought to his attention and asks her if she's okay. She just nods and hides behind his back, watching the argument unravel in between them.

"My inventions, yeah, _blame_ it on _them_! How can you not see? Those were meant to make your job easier, dad! I wanted to help you out, but, _no,_ of course not!" Harper informs, his void now an octave louder as Stephen sighed and rubbed his temples.

Harper continues, cutting whatever Stephen decided to say, "Worst part is I _wanted_ to make you proud. I wanted to have at least a small thought, something, _anything_ , that _I_ exist in your life! But, no. You kept forcing me to _be_ you. Do you see the picture here? Do you see where I'm heading, what I'm trying to say? I can't be _that_ since I'm _this_!" and he gestures towards his body, which wasn't really so much different from his fifteen year old one, just much leaner.

Stephen opened his mouth but closed it again, realizing that if he adds on it will just be another never ending fight between the two of them over the same thing. He instead just walks away, but not fast enough to not catch the disapproving look Alek gives him. Stephen turns around for a moment to check Harper, looking at his back sadly, before walking away completely.

"What am I supposed to do, Gobber? He's right. I was never there for him during his childhood, same goes for the entirety of his adolescent life outside the wasteland," Stephen starts, his head looking down at the concrete, defeated, as Gerald walked side by side with him.

Gobber sighs, speaking, "Stoick, yu' kno' the lad 'as been well different. Hel, even I notic' dat', yu kno' the boy wouldn't stop ranting about yu not carin for him! I needed to gev' it to him straight that yu love him. Problem is yer having a hard time showing it."

Stephen stared at his best friend, finally realizing that his one and only son, the one who he thought didn't love him, actually _did._

"And I made it worse by putting him in trial, didn't I?"

Gerald nods, but eventually the happy look on his face was wiped off by Stephen's troubled look.

"The lad 'as been through a lot, Stoick. Give 'im time. Five years in the wasteland can change someone's perspective in life, same goes for being practically isolated throughout his childhood. Come on, let's see if me bar is up!"

Stephen nods and hops in the Humvee, driving to The Edge.

Harper and Alek made it close to the cove but they didn't really enter because now, both Harper and Alek sat at the pavement in front of it, with Harper ranting endlessly about his father to Alek, who listened intently.

" _What I did back there was wrong_ ," Harper says in a deep tone, one that meant to resemble his father as he mocks what he just said a few moments ago to him.

"Harper," Alek interjects, "I know what he did back there was…" she pauses to find the right words but Harper already beated him to it.

"Let's see...idiotic, stupid, inhumane? I can go on, you know," Harper offers.

"Not thinking straight," Alek corrects and settles on that, "Harper, you shot him for Thor's sake! Of course he would place you in trial, but he wouldn't kill you Harper, you're his son."

"No! I was _never_ his son," Harper protests, "I mean, look at me, do I look _Stoick_ enough to be him? Of course not. Remember, _I_ , Hiccup the Useless, always have been and always _will_ ," Harper says.

Alek looks at Harper, her eyes wide seeing his defeated form. She inches closer and pulls herself near him. "You're not useless, Harper. Don't say that," Alek says sternly, "look at you, even more of a man than Sam and Eret combined! And don't even get me started on Frank," she says, smirking this time.

Harper smiles and chuckles at that, putting an arm around her and pulls her closer, "well, nobody can handle all of this _raw_ power when they come across me," he says, gesturing to his body as they both burst into laughter.

"Well, certainly, the guys couldn't think of the fact that you became a badass," Alek informs.

"Comes as a package outside the wasteland," Harper adds on.

That's when Alek remembered something she's been wanting to ask.

"Harper, what did you do outside the wasteland?" she asks softly, her tone gentle, careful to not strike anything and hurt him.

But she seems to have failed in that attempt as the proud smile wiped off Harper's face and was replaced with a frown, "It's better to keep the past buried," he answers.

"No, Harper, you can't hide it forever. Eventually you'll have to talk about it and that's right now," Alek persuades.

"Why is my past important all of a sudden?" Harper yells back.

"Because I want to remember what you say right now," Alek replies, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her.

"Tell me, Harper Haddock, what did you do outside? What are the things you regret?" Alek pushes further, staring at him straight in the eye.

Harper stayed silent, averting his gaze from the sapphires that bore into him to the debris that sat behind her but it was of no use because any attempt to pull back Alek would just hold her ground and grip his chin firmly.

"Please don't make me remember," he chokes out as the memories he's worked so hard to bottle up come spilling out, playing itself in his mind over and over again.

Alek finally let's go out of her tight grip on his face, her expression softening as she pulls him into a hug, "Why? What do you want to forget?"

"Everything. I want to forget everything," Harper replies, hugging her tighter as he sobbed quietly.

"Tell me, what do you want to forget?"

Harper stayed quiet, not responding as he sobbed into her shoulder. Alek ran her hand up and down his back while her other toyed with strands of his hair. She whispered soothing words to him that calmed him from time to time.

The sun has finally set and the moment it dimmed around them, Harper spoke. He pulled back from the hug and leaned against a wall, Alek following suit.

"I did things, things I wanted to forget, things I wanted to erase from my memories. Till today, they haunt me and I regret ever making those decisions," Harper starts.

Alek remains silent and gestures for him to continue.

"After a few months, after I got separated from my parents, I was on my own, still a welp. I just tried to survive, ignoring the freaks, hiding from the raiders. It was hard to survive on your own considering the fact that I was still a fishbone," he says with a small smile, staring up at the night sky.

Alek smiles as well, happy that Harper is coming back to his old self, bit by bit.

"Then all of a sudden these guys with military gear came in. There were at least three of them and they came in, surrounding me. And-and I thought I was going to die! That I was finally going to die out here but, _no_. I was wrong. They asked me if I needed a place to stay and me, being desperate, of course I said yes."

"As soon as I came there," he continues, "it was...like a new civilization, like a new start for everybody. It was called _The Great Bewilderbeast_ , same goes for the groups name. And there were these agents, people, or something that were called _Dragons_ that find and save people outside the wasteland. They were there to save what was left of humanity," Harper reminisces.

"Our leader was a kind and great man but, one day, he was mysteriously murdered. Eventually a man that went by the name of Drago Bludvist came in and took command of the settlement along with the Dragons. By the time he was in charge, I was a member and that lead him to giving me the name Night Fury since we're all considered _dragons_ ," he adds air quotes to the dragons part.

"So, what happened?" Alek asks after a long pause.

"I-I..I, I did things. Things...I regret doing. We raided peaceful settlements, killed people like us who wanted and needed to survive. We did things that were so inhumane that some of us started to lose faith to the cause. They all followed blindly to the others since anyone who would even make so much as to an attempt to rebel were made examples of-" he pauses, chokes out a sob and cries silently to his arm.

"If you want to stop talking, you can. I'm not forcing you to say it all in one day," Alek reminds him softly.

"No, I need to get this out of my chest," Harper protests. Alek just nods and motions for him to continue.

"I wanted to leave, to _defect_ and by now I was already marked for treason since I disobeyed most of Drago's orders. So, I ran, leaving the colony overall. And I didn't then but I did, well, _kind of_ , tried to kill Drago," Harper says sheepishly.

"Tried?!" Alek asks, exasperated.

"I tried to assassinate him, alright! And it didn't go well so he hired a group called _The Hunters,_ soldiers turned into mercenaries, taking bounties and killing for sport. Their superior officer, Viktor Grimborn, along with his brother Garret were both high ranking in the army before everything fell apart which gave Viktor the idea to also defect."

"And you saying you have a bounty is _true_. So, how much then?" Alek asks.

"Uh, thirty- No! fifty. Yes, fifty thousand coins along with some guns, ammunition, food, and medical supplies. But I'm sure Drago will kill them instead of giving it to them," Harper says, numerating each and every item by ticking them one by one off his fingers.

"Who is Drago Bludvist?" Alek asks.

"Drago Bludvist is a sadistic man. A man with no conscience or feelings. He's a very dangerous, you don't want to be near him. Trust me, the last person who questioned and disobeyed him was killed publicly and were fed to the Freaks. He keeps some sort of makeshift arena where he let people watch prisoners fight to the death with them," Harper answers.

After much talking, Harper yawns and so did Alek. They both headed to the cove, with Harper getting in bed first. He then offers Alek and, how can she deny? So, she joins him and they both cuddle and admire the quiet, close-to-peaceful atmosphere, ready to pass out if only it weren't for Harper jumping out and remembering to cover the hole on the ceiling. They both went to bed and slept peacefully after that.


	18. Chapter 17

_**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**_ : **TO BE ACCEPTED OR REJECTED**

The battle on Berk has left several Outcasts run over or killed, which lead Berk to be populated with dead bodies of both parties. Alongside that were the destruction of several properties.

This has left Stephen and several others completely busy through the whole morning, scavenging for any material or item that's left for them and can be deemed as useful. They've also spent hefty of supplies rebuilding broken down properties, materials and houses of people.

While that was happening, the gang accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Hofferson were worried sick for Alek and have spent half of the morning finding for her.

Harper, on the other hand, has spent the whole night up, thinking if his father would accept him as his son, or maybe a citizen if he was lucky enough. Not that he cared, but he just thought of it. It was already enough to him that he had Alek by his side. He's already contented with that.

He looks down at her the moment her name popped up in his head. Staring at Alek, he caresses her blonde hair that's a mess, tucking away stray pieces of strands behind her ear and watched her stir in bed. It's hard for him to believe that finally, _finally_ , he's with Alek after all these years of believing that what he has was just another hopeless crush. It stuns him, even a little bit sometimes, that Alek _actually_ likes him, he still doesn't know how he managed to do that, but he just did. All his life he thought he was destined to die a lonely man like he thought he'd be but, turns out, he didn't. And instead, here he is, laying in bed with his high school crush.

It was six in the morning and soon enough the sun started to rise, it's rays seeping through the open cracks of the boarded up windows and the hole on the ceiling, even though it's covered. Alek has started to haze up as the sun shined through and struck her eye, making her wince and rub them. She presses herself to Harper's chest to cover herself from the light.

Harper chuckles and obliges, pulling her close.

"I know that look. You're confused, aren't you?" Alek mumbles, her voice muffled by his chest but audible enough for Harper to hear and understand.

"And how do you know that? Did the gang force you to watch Star Wars when we were teenagers?" Harper jokes.

" _First_ , I wanted to watch the movie on my own terms, without Sam and Eret pulling me into their own seats and, _second,_ when did you hear that? You weren't even there in the halls?" Alek responds.

Harper tried to send a harsh glare her way but miserably fails. Alek fails at his attempt and cuddles back to Harper while undoing her messy braid, "For your information, Milady, I was there. Problem was, I was in my locker and during that time since our lockers were not far apart from each other I heard the gang's rambling most of the time."

Alek's eyes widened and suddenly the fun vanished, that same guilt she'd always occasionally feel came in and clouded her again. Harper was there the whole time, stuck in between four metal walls hearing every possible conversation they had everyday.

But, wait a second. How did Harper manage to fit in such a tiny, cramped up space when that was the same year he hit his growth spurt?

All guilt vanished and turned to curiosity as she asks that question to Harper.

"How did you even fit in your locker? You were basically tall! Even your legs can't fit in," Alek informs.

"And why are you smiling? Aren't you supposed to be pissed or upset?" she adds.

"Yes, I'm pissed off. Actually, I've asked several people from the wasteland, my contacts specifically, about certain people. Seeing that if they saw you guys anywhere in the wasteland. But, of course, no answer."

"Wait, you were hunting is down? What for?" Alek asks, shocked herself to hear all of this coming from Harper.

"No, I was going to- Well, _maybe_ or _maybe not_ cut their fingers off or threaten to feed them off to Freaks to scar them for life?" he says sheepishly, scratching his neck.

" _Maybe_?! You're going with a _maybe_?!" Alek asks.

Harper laughed out as Alek punched his chest multiple times softly, each punch would just make him laugh out louder.

"Not you, the girls, nor Frank!" Harper quickly adds on when the punches started to tickle, "you guys really didn't do anything _that_ brash to me."

Alek rolls her eyes and got up, finishing and fixing her messy braid, followed by Harper. Harper felt a bit self-conscious so he smelled himself and quickly went to his pack to get a spare navy blue shirt and change into it. The moment he got his shirt off, Alek couldn't resist to not look so she just stares, watching the muscles of his back flex as he makes an effort to wear the spare shirt on. The photo Rebecca showed her came in mind and her cheeks heated up at how she reacted to it. Now, she gets to see the photo live and up close and pretty much nothing has changed, her cheeks are still red and hot.

He turned around and stopped mid-air, arms tangled with the shirt as he basked in Alek's reaction. His chest was toned with a faded four pack evident, but it was still there. Several wounds littered all over his body and she even caught the one he got when they were headed back from the hospital.

Harper smiles and turns around again, exposing his back. Before he could put on the shirt completely, Alek got a chance to catch a glimpse of the dragon tattoo, its wings extended out and soaring through what seems to be the sky.

Alek looked at it closely to see that it was a Night Fury, an old folktale and that her grandfather used to tell her. Her grandfather would say that dragons used to live among us, way before the Viking's sailed here. Around the tattoo were also scars, scattered around different parts of his body.

Alek sat beside Harper and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, placing her arms around his waist as he hugged her arms in the process. "How many do you gain on a daily basis?"

"Depends, but I don't really care. I'm still alive right now so no news there."

"Tuff was right. At least you got a scar out of it, right?"

"You could say that," Harper replies, letting go of Alek completely so that he could wear his long sleeve. Alex let's go of him as well and goes back to braiding her hair in place and wearing her gear.

"By the way, are you sure your parents are okay with me?" Harper asks. Alek turns around and silently stares at him, her hands pausing their movements, "you know?" he adds.

"I'm sure they'll understand but that can take a while since my parents want me to be with Snotlout or Eret," Alek hums.

"Now you're using the nickname I gave him?" Harper asks, amused.

"Hey don't blame me. It actually fits the muttonhead," Alek says.

When the both of them are finally settled with their looks, they crawled out of the room and covered the entrance with the two-by-fours. They looked around before walking.

"You know you have to talk with your father, right? The trial isn't over yet," Alek reminds him.

"Don't remind me," he dismisses the topic," we'll just sneak in the hall, get some breakfast and, I guess, I'll be out by tomorrow."

"Harper," Alek starts, "You know you could always stay. Besides, I saw how your father regretted that decision, I'm sure he'll let you stay. And your mom wants you here as well, Harper, same goes for me. I'll be by your side if he argues with you again," Alek proposes.

"And even if I stay, I'm still condemned by the townsfolk, half of the gang, and possibly other survivors," Harper points out.

"Well, Heather and Cami are already with us. They'd vouch for you, and Fish wants to ask for your forgiveness. Give it time and I'm sure you'll get used to the four eggheads," Alek enthusiastically says with a grin.

"I hope you're right 'cause chances are I might get into another trial if I attempt to kill them," Harper jokes and they both laugh.

Harper stops laughing when he felt a punch, a really hard punch, lunge at his face. Stars filled his vision as he tried to balance himself and get ahold of what just happened. _What could he have said this time that's caused Alek to punch him, and why so hard?_ But when he opens his eyes, and light pours in, he realizes from Alek's concerned gaze that it wasn't her who delivered it, but rather someone else.

Not long enough, Alek was eventually pulled away from Harper. He watches in confusion as she's held by a pair of hands.

He then realizes that he was punched by none other than Mr. Hofferson himself.

Alek struggled from her parents grasp and with one tug, she finally got ahold of herself and ran back to a Harper who's still groaning in pain, clutching his now bruised cheek.

"Are you alright?" she whispers.

"Nothing new here," Harper mutters.

"Alek _what_ are _you_ doing with that lunatic! Don't you know he killed innocent lives for a living!" Mary, her mother, screeches out, hand thrown in the air in exasperation as her father, Anthony, let's out hums of agreement.

"And who told you that? The one with the small head or the other one who has a big head but lacks intelligence whatsoever?" Harper retorts, looking at both Hofferson's with death glares of his own.

He cranes his neck from side to side, letting out loud cracking noises that was audible enough for everyone in the scene to hear. Everyone winced in pain.

"Are you sure you want to believe them or do you want to hear your daughter's side? I mean, she _is_ your offspring, after all," Harper asks out.

"Don't you use that tone on me, _boy_ ," Anthony taunts, bending town to take Alek's hand, "come on Alek we'll let the authorities handle this!"

"No, dad, I'm staying with Harper. You guys got it all wrong! I'm pretty sure you believed those two muttonheads," she says, then proceeds to point at Sam and Eret. "He just made wrong decisions and he had no choice to deny. He had no choice to take those innocent lives or it'll have his own life taken. I'm pretty sure you'd all do the same thing."

The stern looks on both Mary and Anthony's faces faltered as they stared at their daughter, trying to take in all of what they've just heard. Could it be true? They were hesitant and didn't know what to think of what she's just said. They only wanted the best for their daughter.

"Look, Alek, he's just using his wasteland tactics to trick you into liking him," Rebecca reasons out.

Harper rubs his temples in frustration, same goes with Cami, Heather, and Frank, with groans of their own. Alek on the other hand just glares at her, making Rebecca shut up completely.

"Look, babe, I've know and have figured that you're using that fishbone to make me jealous and it's working so come here and we'll help you deal with that good for nothing twerp," Sam says, his arms open and ready for a hug that Alek definitely won't give.

Alek grimaced and made a barfing gesture while Harper pulls out a knife and throws it right at Sam's direction. It flew and dug itself into the flesh of his leg, making Sam let out a loud, feminine shriek, falling to the ground as he clutched his now impaled leg. Everyone stared at the crying boy as Harper got up and pulled out the knife, watching Sam wince and squirm from the pain.

Sam let's out another scream, and falls onto the ground again, clutching his now bleeding leg. Harper rolls his eyes and slides the knife onto his palm, giving himself a cut while simultaneously wiping off any excess blood it got from Sam's wound. He shows it off to everybody, with a calm and relaxed expression, as if it were nothing. This scared and freaked everyone out, except for Alek who was still concerned, and now even much _more_ concerned, for Harper.

"You see _this_ ," Harper shows them the wound, earning a gasp from each and everyone of them, "a small cut can't even worry me! Hell, I even got shot everyday and had _bullets_ for breakfast yet you don't see me crying my ass off over a small wound! We bleed, so start getting used to it, _pathetic_!" Harper spat, scolding Sam before going back to his pack to wrap up his wound.

He lets out a small laugh after wrapping the wound and faced Mr. and Mrs. Hofferson, who still stared at him with mixed emotions.

"First of all, Mr. and Mrs. Hofferson, I have _no_ intention of doing anything bad to your daughter. I love her. Second of all, you _muttonheads,_ she doesn't want you! She _never_ will. Now, get that through your thick skulls and get over it. So far, Alek is fine with me and all of you are _pissing yourselves_ thinking I would just _fuck_ her out of the bloom! I'm not like that, I have good intentions with her and that means respecting her like the goddess that she is," Harper claims confidently, earning grins from the two girls and Frank while the others have their mouth open in shock.

Anthony's eyes softened. That was enough to convince the two Hofferson's that, perhaps, this guy was good enough for their daughter despite the very gruesome execution of his very touching speech. Anthony walks forward and extends his hand out, to which Harper gladly shakes.

"Now, _that_ right there is a man. I knew you were a good boy, Haddock. Even if your father doesn't see it," Anthony says.

Harper smiles and lets go of his hand, walking back to a stunned Alek.

"You mean that? I'm a goddess to you?" Alek asks out, surprised.

"Yes, you always have and it's always been like that ever since I first laid eyes on you," Harper tells her.

Instantly, Alek got on her tiptoes and pulls Harper into a kiss, he kisses her back and they both just happily stood there. Alek's parents made no sign of objection while the two muttonheads sagged in defeat.

They were interrupted, however, by the sound of a Humvee passing by and stopping right at the scene. Stephen and Gerald hopped out and just in time Harper and Alek broke off from the kiss, sternly looking at the two men.

"Dad," Harper acknowledges, his tone filled with venom.

It wasn't really much, but Stephen internalized a smile at how his son called him _dad._

"Son, we need to continue your trial. It's part of the Berkial rule," Stephen says, a little bit too calm.

"Can't you just call it out! Besides, he saved Berk _and_ your best friend," Alek argued.

"I know I already called it out, problem is that old fart convinced the people to a retrial against you," Stephen informs, equally as frustrated.

"Mildew! That bag of bones is _still_ alive after all these years?" Harper yells out, his voice coming back to it's usual high pitched self, the one he'd use when he discovers something unbelievable.

"Trust meh lad, I'm not sur' how that old fart is still alive either," Gerald agrees.

Harper sighs and turns to Alek. Alek cuts her off with a quick peck, which he smiles to before whispering and telling her to take care. As he got in the car, everyone looked at him and watched the Humvee drive off and vanish around the corner to the Great Hall's direction.


	19. Chapter 18

_**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**_ : **A SINNER OR REDEEMER**

They finally made it to the Great Hall, where the retrial for Harper Haddock will commence. Harper was escorted into the center and this time with no chains, just with Gerald trailing behind him. The crowd didn't sneer at his presence, they still held glares but it wasn't of anger.

Although, the same thing can't be said towards Sam, Eret and Trevor who fumed in anger just even breathing towards Harper's direction, both Eret and Sam fairly upset that Alek chose him over either of them while Trevor? Trevor just really likes making fun of people, and Harper is kind of still the pinnacle of his sadism.

The crowd's glares weren't of anger, but of confusion. Their whole life, all Harper was to them was a simple boy who's meant to be taken care of, as it's ordered by the Mayor himself to keep an eye out for him. Alongside that, he's been known to be a troublemaker due to all the failed inventions he'd make that'd cause a ruckus throughout the town. Another thing would be him just simply being _useless_ to the eyes of others, since he wasn't quite fitting which therefore led them, and several others, to hate and bash on him for no rational reason at all.

Then, years later, he comes back again. This time completely defying and becoming the opposite of how they saw him as and, much worse, he's done a lot of things that would make them grimace or cower in fear. Turmoil of emotions brewed within every individual in the crowd towards Harper and the only easy way to express it was through a glare, so they settled for that.

Harper found the glares not quite intimidating, especially now that it's his second time and faces are slowly growing quite familiar again. His eyes scanned the crowd, gaze landing on a couple of people he saw during his first trial and finally it lands onto the people whom he loves the most. Vallory and Alek. They both sat at the same spot, smiles on their faces as they waved at him. He smiles back, even planned to wave as well but all happiness vanished when an old man entered the room and stopped right in front of his view.

Repulsive, annoying, _old_ , might I add, Mildew. It's still a shock to many, especially to Harper, how this old degenerate sack of crap still manages to wake up everyday, alive and well, breathing even and ready to take the next inhale. Mildew stares down at Harper with that same, gloomy face that held the angry look he's mastered throughout these sixty-five or whatever years. Harper merely shrugs this off and sees him as just another intimidator in the wasteland.

"You see, the boy isn't even scared!" Mildew describes, his hand gesturing towards a calm Harper.

To Harper, it's hard to believe that this moldy piece of man standing right in front of him was actually named Nicholas. It may sound like an angel's name, or someone of higher authority, but the person who carries it isn't even anything close to it. It's pretty obvious sometimes how he's earned the title _Mildew_ instead of _Nicholas._

"Yeah obviously, you old maggot. I've learnt to stare at fear right in it's eyes. How do you think I've survived for so long while you cower behind your poor excuse of a home?" Harper spat back, a sinister smile stretching on his lips as Mildew took in each and every single one of his words.

"How dare you! You're nothing but trouble, _boy._ The moment I laid eyes on you, trouble already followed you!" Mildew condemns.

Harper smiles and suppresses a laugh. "Yeah, sure you do, Mildew. I'm pretty sure trouble smells like a sack of shit and there's only _one_ person in this room that carries that scent proudly like it's an expensive high-end perfume."

Harper's eyes playfully roamed around for a second before landing with finality on Mildew.

"You," he emphasizes.

"And _you_ are _trouble_ , boy!" Mildew insists, having nothing to counteract what just happened, "you brought those Outcasts right at our doorstep," Mildew accuses and this started murmuring to spread through the room like wildfire.

Harper's eyes widened and for a second, Mildew thought he finally plucked the one last string that'd end it all for Harper. Instead of bursting into tears, as Mildew expected, Harper bursted into laughter instead, his laugh echoing off the wall of the Great Hall as everyone stared at him with a worried look. Harper clutched his stomach as more boisterous laughs escaped from his lips till he finally got ahold of himself and stared at Mildew seriously.

He wipes off a few stray happy tears before facing Mildew, shoving his hand in his vest and pulling out a magazine, "You sure about that, _Nicholas_?" Harper mocks, using Mildew's undeserving birthname. "Go to Savage's body and I can guarantee you that you will see a hole right on his _eye_ with _this_ ," Harper says, pulling out a _7.62x39_ caliber out of the magazine and presenting it to the audience before showing it to Mildew up close.

"You'll see," he says, tucking the items back in their rightful places, " _but,_ maybe not since chances are his body is long gone," Harper states, feigning sadness, "Oh! Here's a witness. Ask Alvin how many fingers I sliced off from that pathetic bastard."

The room already feared Harper, but now they feared him more than ever upon hearing that.

Mildew on the other hand still refuses to give up and therefore stood his ground, but it was of no use as Harper beat him to speaking.

"Is this about your general store? Well, it's not my fault you didn't renovate it for merely twenty years now, back when the cement and bricks came in. You've been using that same old building for too many years, man. But putting that aside, I know you think I'm a good for nothing kid. Well, _this_ _kid_ saved your town, _this kid_ saved _your_ lives. So, let me ask, am _I_ trouble?" Harper asks, and by now he isn't even just talking to Mildew as an individual, he was already talking to the whole room.

Vallory, Stephen and Alek were all godsmacked, half-proud and half-shocked at the way Harper stood up for himself. All these years, Harper's been abused in the most unimaginable ways and have done nothing about it yet today, and pretty sure ever since then, he has and it's made them more proud than ever. Mildew on the other hand couldn't think of anything clever to say back, couldn't think of any excuse to manipulate the crowd into hating the man in front of him again so he walks out and heads back to his poor excuse of a home with his dog, Fungus, who just snarled angrily at Harper along it's way out.

A moment of silence stretched across the room as the audience made up their minds. Mulch was the first to break it by speaking up his mind, "I vote for Harper Haddock to stay!"

The moment he announced that, the people sat all over the room switched looks with each other. Bucket stood up as well and rose his hand, agreeing with what Mulch has said. Soon enough, Alek and his mother have raised their hands as well, followed by the gang. Except, Heather, Cami and Frank had to forcefully raise the hands of the other four. Eventually, the whole room had their hands up.

"So, it is, then. Harper Haddock get's to stay. My son has returned!" Stephen yells, making the crowd cheer.

Upon hearing that, emotions brewed in Harper and he didn't know which to settle on. It was a mix of pissed, happy, relieved, angry sad and others that he couldn't seem to name. After all these years, he felt like he needed to stop resisting destiny and being so uptight, so he settled on happy and relieved.

A warmth spread throughout him at the thought — of the _feeling_ of being able to stay here, where he belongs.

A blur of blonde hair running towards him cut him out of his string of thoughts. Alek's arms wrapped around his waist and she hugged him tightly, happiness oozing off of her. Val got the chance to hug him as well and all three of them were happy, equally as relieved and beamed with brightness. They broke off the hug when Stephen came by.

Harper stared at the man.

Stephen was hesitant, but despite that, he opened his mouth and spoke, "Welcome back, son," he says, simply.

Harper sizes up the man, stares at him intently before curtly nodding. It's still gonna take a while to get used to it, especially after everything but for now he'll brush that off as he walks side by side with Alek, both of them eager to get a drink and call it a night.

While they were busy making their way to The Edge, the gang left stayed behind and watched the two. Heather, Cami and Frank broke apart and went to do the stuff they usually did while Sam, Eret and the twins just planned. They think that there's still a score to settle. For the meantime, Sam was using a crutch due to the injury Harper gave him on the leg.

Once the hall has emptied, they started plotting their revenge on Harper. Nothing has changed, they still saw him as the same boy he was years ago.

 **HARPER'S POV**

This is it, this is my new life. It's a bit hard to take in considering the first time I went here, all I wanted was to do my job and leave. Go back to the wasteland and do god-knows-what for the most unsettling type of people. But now, _now,_ I get to experience the comforts of four walls and a roof, with the woman whom I love the most with all that's left of my heart. I no longer consider myself a mercenary, nor a wastelander, and perhaps I can finally live in peace, maybe even start a family with Alek. I chuckled at the thought, probably too far off considering the circumstances we are in.

My legs brought me to the bar where I decided to get some drinks. I guess old habits never die, except this time I'm with someone, and that someone is Alek.

"You sure you can handle your liquor, Milady? I heard you were a lightweight," I ask, feeling Alek shuffle beside me as a smirk grew on my lips.

She stares at me dead in the eyes and rolls hers before raising her fist and — _you guessed it_ — punching me lightly on the arm. Violence seems to always be the answer to her.

"Violence is not the answer, Milady," I voice out, rubbing my arm theatrically and groaning in pain for emphasis.

"And you use that against me since you're the _peacemaker_ and not some _hired gun_ ," she retorts, a smirk now on her lips as well.

"Well, you know me. I do that for a living so, _yes_ , of course I'm used to the violence. Kind of the point why I suggested to go guns blazing back when we were being chased," I tell her.

We both heartily laughed and shared some jokes before entering The Edge. She went in first, with me following behind. The room were empty and the chairs were fixed, not a single one misplaced. It was slightly dim as well, with not much light entering the room and no torches lit.

We headed to the counter were Gerald usually was. After calling out his name three times and receiving nothing but silence, we figured that he probably went with dad.

"Hey, you've been here before. Do you know where he stashes his drinks?" I ask Alek.

Alek shrugs and we both decide to check around the room. Just to look, I guess. Out of nowhere, I felt a figure move. I turned around and saw it's shadow move forward. A light, faint outline of a shotgun shown through the figure and I immediately got out my pistol at this. Instinctively, I kicked the doorway to make sure he stayed there as I aimed my pistol at it.

Turns out, the figure was just Gerald. A very scared and shocked Gerald, with his eyes wide in fear.

"Gobber?" I exasperate.

"Yu' were about to shoot me! Tha' hel lad!" he exclaims, putting down his shotgun. I shyly placed my weapon down as well as I scratched my neck sheepishly, finding the situation a bit embarrassing.

"You could have went through the side door," I suggested.

"Ye, did yu' read tha' sign!" Gerald exclaims, leading us out and showing the sign that hung on the door lopsidedly. " _Closed_!" he reads out for us.

I exchanged glances with Alek. She shrugs again, and an idea came in mind.

"Well, since you're here why not I pay you to serve me and Milady here a drink," I suggest, my hands darting to my pockets to reach for the money as the other gestured to Alek, a hint of a smile playing on my lips as Gerald sighs.

"Sarky little twerp," he mutters under his breath as he heads behind the counter to prepare us some drinks.

" _Hey_! Give me some credit. You liked my sass," I tell him, a huge grin on my face as he shook one of the cups filled with ice cubes.

"Ye, that's the only reason why I missed you lad. Yer pleasant comebacks against my customers who degrade you were entertaining!" he agrees.

"Not my problem they can't counter back with common sense," I add. I sat on a booth.

Alek followed behind and sat beside me.

"How long have you worked for Gobber?" Alek asks, her voice as soft as a whisper.

"Around six years old. He's one of the reasons why I started inventing things as a kid, his garage practically became my second home. I considered it as my workshop, or a place to get away from another siege as my dad attacks me with his poorly constructed criticism," I answer.

"Does your dad always compare you to everybody he wishes you to be?" Alek asks, worriedly looking at me.

I sigh, leaning in, "If you were in my shoes, you'd try your hardest, even in the most stubbornest way possible, to earn my father's respect. It always came down to my physical attributes. It's as if he never gave a shit about my intellect, probably because I've always had good and fairly high grades but it still hurts that he brushes them off. He didn't want me to be an architect or an artist," I started, looking down at the table as I relived the memories of us arguing on the same table at breakfast, lunch, and sometimes, even dinner. It was never ending.

"He just...wants me to be like him. A well respected man who can change and inspire lives. Who does so much paperwork that involves nothing but boring rules about change. It involves intellect, yes, at some point but that's — that's not me, Alek. I never wanted to be like...him," I vaguely gesture in the air, pretending that the direction my hand pointed would be Stephen, "A politician stuck on his work. With no time for his family, including his one and only son."

He never really found time to spend with me. At first I always knew business always came first but eventually it just seemed to sad to think that loves those pieces of paper more than he loved me. This roots down to me thinking I'm not enough. Eventually, I started making these inventions, simply because I wanted to help with him. If they turn out helpful, then that's the closest I'll probably ever get to my father in terms of hanging out and that's already enough to me. I'm content with that.

The inventions got out of hand and one day my father just snapped. He's angered by me creating these nonsensical things, as he puts it, and wanted me to stop but I really didn't want to give up. It's sad even sad to think that the closest I ever got to hanging out with him is whenever he'd get mad due to one of my inventions. Either that or him just criticizing me over all to no end.

Alek notices the lingering sadness and leans in, the side of her forehead touches mine and I breathe in relief at this.

"You can't blame him, Harper. He only wants whats best for you, like all parents do. He just has a hard time showing it, including affection since he has to act all big and smart for the community. Do you think people would follow a role model who didn't show characteristics worthy of doing so?"

I shook my head in disagreement and she smiles at this, kissing me softly on the cheek, "Give it some time, Harper. Besides, your physical attributes are, how you say, too much for everybody's case," she adds with a small blush.

I smile at this and kiss the top of her head. The both of jolted up in shock when Gerald slammed our drinks on the table and had this weird, big smile on his face as he stared at the both of us, his hands clasped together with tears in his eyes.

"I can't believe me' boy found tru' love!" he happily said, placing the back of his hand dramatically on his forehead as his eyes fluttered close and he sniffles.

Alek laughs heartily at this as they both exchanged greetings and casually chatted while I reached for six dimes and handed it to him. He bade us goodbye, not before reminding us that the next drinks are on the house. Alek and I said our thank you's as we drank and chatted the whole night.

A few moments later, the door opens and revealed none other than the gang themselves. All of them were scanning the room, searching for someone and I had no doubts that it's Alek who they're looking for. Not long enough they finally found who they're searching for and they made their way towards our table.

I held Alek close, and my other hand tightened on the rim of the mug.

" _Okaaay_ , Alek. You're starting to scare us. Since when did you like _that_?" Rebecca asks, pointing at me as a grimace takes over her look.

"I have a name, use it," I comment coldly, my other free hand now no longer holding the mug but rather instinctively reaching for my knife, the one I toyed with during times where my nerves weren't at ease and all that could calm it was the cool metal.

"What is your problem?" Heather spoke up, walking to Alek's side of the booth, "the four of you keep seeing Harper like _he's_ the enemy!" she says, raising her hands in exasperation.

"Because he _is_ the enemy and will _always_ be one! Besides, shrimp can't handle himself without his toys," Eret says.

"Yeah, I bet he can't beat us in one go," Trevor adds on, his hands balling into fists as he stares at me sinisterly.

I stayed calm and kept myself together despite the dying urge to wrap my hands around their skulls and squeeze until all that's in it — if there's actually anything there at all — comes out and all that's left is the bones, which I'll gladly crack open and smash into pieces. It's an entertaining thought, almost as much as putting it into reality but it wasn't worth it, so I stayed calm. My hand has dropped the knife by now and reached for the mug, ready to take another swig.

Eret moves to my side and I pretend that I'm not seeing him, that I'm just casually drinking my mead. When he reaches out his hand to, what I'm assuming is my knife, I slam my mug heavily down on it. I rose it back up and exert even much more force as I land my elbow on the already injured hand. He squirms continously, clutching his wrist as his face contorted into one of pain. Eventually, I let go and watch him breathe heavily.

I placed my mug back down and reached for my knife, running my thumb on the blunted side as I enjoy watching Eret clutch his bloodied, shaking hand. Alek watched all of it, and continues watching, calm as ever as she reaches for her own drink to take a sip from.

"So, you guys want to fight me. Happened already. Remember? Same time, same place," I gesture to the venue, "I even got the three of you out cold in a matter of three minutes."

The infamous four glares at my cocky remark while I on the other hand just sat, calm as ever, watching Heather, Frank and Cami return back from the bar with drinks in hand. They sat across us while the four fumed in anger behind them.

"See, you guys still see me as what? _Hiccup the Useless_!" I say, a bit too enthusiastically for my liking but so far I'm loving the reaction I'm getting. "I promise you, I've never been more useful after I shed blood on the wasteland. Now, get out of my sight!" I exclaim and watch them mutter cusses under their breaths before walking out.

"When did you become a badass?" Cami asks when the door finally slams shut.

"Um," I pause to drink, "let's say during my third year on the wasteland. Needed to be a myth after all," I spoke the second sentence a bit too quickly, muffled cause of my mouth still pressed onto the rim of the mug.

"What do you mean myth?" Alek asks, an inquiring brow up as she waits for a response.

"You see, as I told you, I'm the Night Fury. Our group used to base our code names on dragons and their skills. Since I'm a good shot and kind of like a shadow, I earned the title for Night Fury. I guess- I guess that's how I got it. Along with the stuff toy mom gave me."

"And what about the guys back at the inn? The guys who wanted you dead. Grimborn, is it?" Heather recalls.

I scowled mentally just by hearing that name. I tried to not show it much, how it affects me so I just talked and answered as casually as I can.

"As I have said. Dark past, _dark past_ ," I mutter with vague gestures, "And well, those people from that said past want me _dead._ So, they hired bounty hunters to kill me which is unfortunate since _they_ will be the one dead."

The three of them gave me questioning looks. Oh, for fucks sake. I really thought the question would end there and that we'd talk about something lighthearted tonight, like, _I don't know_ , birds or something.

I locked gazes with Alek, silently asking for help which she seems to notice.

Instead, she asks another question. One that I'm glad didn't have so much to do with my past, but it was one that I promised to keep a secret.

"You were outside in the wasteland, right?" she asks. I nod, "so, how did the infection start?"

I promised Mala. I did, but I just couldn't help it. The truth has to come out eventually, so I might as well.

"I don't know. During my time in the group, we asked traders, wanderers and travelers. They all said it started in Mexico, then it spread out worldwide. They also said that the media paid the government to keep their mouths shut since they thought they could contain the disease by closing the border — which, as we all know considering the conditions right now five years later — obviously failed," I answer, calm as ever. I left out the fact that at least half of the world was unaffected, and that we were the only ones that are affected by it. Right now just didn't seem like the right time to say it.

They all nod, taking in the information bit by bit as the night deepened. Gerald walked in and served us another round of drinks, and we continued talking.


	20. Chapter 19

_**CHAPTER NINETEEN**_ : **UNEXPECTED VISITORS**

After the trial and the not-so-friendly drinking right after it, everyone went home drunk. Stumbling through their doorways and bidding each other slurred goodbyes. All except for Harper who guided Alek back to her own house.

"Harper," she breathes out, leaning onto Harper and inhaling his scent, "why is- why i-is the ground moving?" she hoarsely asks, coughing to clear her voice as Harper chuckles.

Alek was drunk, beyond drunk and she could barely walk. She can barely walk and throughout the whole time the only thing supporting her was Harper, but even he didn't seem to help much as her knees bucked from time to time.

Harper found it cute, at how drunk she was and the way she acted.

"No, Milady, you just had too much to drink," Harper answers, walking behind her and placing his hands on her hips to help guide her much better. Alek's hands settles on top of his as she walks side to side.

"Ya, sure! I can handle my me-ead pretty well," she comments before laughing very loudly.

Harper chuckles and stops as they finally reach the front of her house. Alek stumbles her way to the doorway and stops just at the edge of it, staring at Harper curiously. Harper didn't know if it was the mead or just his imagination, but she seemed much beautiful than she already was. The moon was on her skin and it illuminated her silhouette, her cheeks glowed lightly as she giggles at another stumble.

The night light emphasized her beauty, she's as pretty as ever. It's as if she were a Valkyrie handpicked by Odin himself and he were just another warrior swept away from battle by her.

Harper steps forward and bade her goodbye. When he was a good two steps away, Alek pulls her back and plants an awkward, sloppy kiss on his lips. Harper, a bit weirded out, just takes this and kisses her back.

Harper waited for her to fully get inside before walking away. His mind was at war as to where he should stay at. His gaze shifted between the hill up ahead and the mansion perched on top of it, with two windows glowing bright with light, or the hotel room that was just a few strides away.

He clutches his pack tighter as if it were to give him answers. Breathing in, he chooses the path that lead to the mansion perched on the hill. Each step made his throat close in and his body feel heavier, slowing him down in the process and he knew it was just instinct since he was well aware of who lived between those four walls.

His hand shakily raised itself and knocked on the wooden door. After three knocks, the door opens, revealing a very tired woman in pajamas.

"Harper!" Vallory happily says and pulls him into a hug. Harper accepts it and hugs her immediately.

"Hey, mom," he says, his voice muffled by her hair and neck, "can..I? Can I stay here?" he shyly asks, embarrassed.

Vallory stares at him in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

They both stare at each for a moment before Vallory ushers her in, muttering something about how the night is late and he's out cold and probably hungry.

"You must be joking, son! This is your home, of course you can stay. And I'm sure your father will be pleased that you're here," she adds, handing him a glass filled with water. He eagerly drinks from it to avoid conversation.

"Val, who's at the door?" Stephen asks, walking down the steps with an annoyed look on his face, only to vanish when he realizes that it was Harper.

By now, Harper has finished his drink but no matter how much water it was, his mouth seemed to have dried up again.

"Hey, dad," he acknowledges, placing the glass down on the table as he stares at him sheepishly.

"Harper!" he says, a bit too happily before fixing himself up again. He takes the last step down the stairs and stammers, "a-are you, are you going to stay here?"

"Well, this is my home. Right, dad?"

"Of-of course, right. Yes, of course. This has always been your home, right?" Stephen responds and the conversation has gotten even much more awkward after that question.

"I have been born here so, yes, I guess I've always been part of Berk," Harper says out loud, still thinking if he's actually _still_ part of Berk because it's been so long.

They both stare at each other, blinking. Stephen smiles, breathing heavily.

"Well, would you look at the time! You know, I need my sleep so, yeah, I'll be at room!" Harper hurriedly says, going up the stairs and to his room.

"Goodnight, son!" both Vallory and Stephen yell at the same time, hearing the steps of their son descending till it became soft pads, followed by a door slamming shut.

They both stared at each other before going separate, Vallory to the living room and Stephen to his study.

On the other hand, Harper was looking at his room. It's the same way he left it. The drawers and cabinets were all closed, the table cleaned of the mess it usually had. The papers that used to have his ideas were stuck in a binder, kept a bit messily. His whiteboard still had the same ink stretched on it, words and pictures articulated together creating plans that lead to creations while his pinboard still had the same things punched on it, arrays of papers and other items still pasted and pinned the same way it was left.

The bed was untouched, same goes for the Apple laptop that sat on his desk. It won't really serve him much use, for now, he thought.

It surprises him how none of these things collected much dust but that just means that either one of his parents, and he's positive it's Vallory, have been cleaning these since day one of his absence, in hopes of him coming back.

Placing his pack on the side of the bed, he removes his gear and settles on putting them at the side of his study table. After that, he opens his drawers and takes out a black t-shirt, pair of boxers, and some khaki shorts and throws them on the bed. He then removes his long sleeve, pants and boxers that he's been using for so long and throws them in the laundry basket, mentally noting to do his laundry sooner or later.

After doing that, he grabs a towel and takes a hot shower. He stays there for a while before opening the medicine cabinet and taking out the toothbrush and toothpaste, brushing his teeth. Satisfied, he eyes himself in the mirror one last time before drying himself and heading out.

He heads to bed, but not before placing his pistol and knife underneath it. It's turned into a routine, especially back at the wasteland. His hand reaches out to tug at the lamp's string, the light dimming out the room completely and lulling him to sleep.

—

The sun shined on his face, forcing his eyes open. He groans and turns around, shoving a pillow on his face to block it out. That didn't help, however, to block out the distinct knocking coming from his door.

"Few minutes!" Harper groans, throwing the blanket up and covering himself completely.

"You sure about that, merc? It's like three in the afternoon!" the voice from the other voice teases.

Harper immediately recognized the voice, a small smile playing on his lips as he tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep before tending to the knocks that grew more and more annoying to Harper, making his hangover a little bit worse than it already was.

Harper reaches for the door knob and pulls the door open, revealing a grinning Alek. Harper eyes her outfit, his eyes skimming over the purple t-shirt that covered her chest and the jeans that stretched over her thighs, accenting every curve it had. When his gaze met hers, Alek's cheeks were flushed and so were Harper's. He ushers her in and Alek throws herself onto the bed, sitting up next to Harper.

"What time did you wake up?" Harper asks.

"About ten. With a bit of a hangover mixed with it. How are you so calm when you should be pissed by now?"

"For some reason I have a high tolerance to alcohol so it would take a lot more than seven rounds to get me drunk, even if it's mead. I remember it took me like, twelve shots of whiskey to get drunk," Harper reminisces.

"No way! Nobody can handle their alcohol except for...your...father…" Alek trails off, dumbfoundedly.

"Well, there's your answer."

The both of them exchanged laughs. Soon enough, Stephen came barging in the room, his face stern.

"Harper, a group of men came in and said they wanted to talk to you. Do you know these people?"

"Depends, I didn't see them yet, so?" Harper says.

"Cut the sass, boy. They said they have a bounty to collect," Stephen informs.

 _Bounty._ Upon hearing this word, Harper immediately got out of bed and got dressed. He wears his usual gear and slings his rifle before heading out.

"Where are they?" Harper asks calmly.

Stephen ushers them to follow, with Harper trailing and Alek not far behind. Harper pieced things together and realized that they were heading for the gate. Along the way he could see seven figures, sporting wasteland armor paired with typical wasteland guns. They all pointed their guns at the guards, while the one at the middle had a sinister smile added to his demeanor. Harper guessed that this was the leader.

Harper touched the bandana on his face, adjusting it slightly until it comforted him enough.

"Why do you need that?" Alek whispers as they got closer.

"I don't need them knowing who I really am," he answers.

The man in the middle grins as Harper approaches them, "Ah, the elusive Night Fury in the flesh!"

"And who are you? President of your fanclub?" Harper gestures to the men.

" _Hahaha!_ Everybody is a comedian, right? No, I am here to collect your bounty. So, how about this. I don't kill you and these fine people _and_ you come forward. If not, things will go really bad," he says, pulling out a glock and caressing it.

"Yeah, how about this, go fuck off!" Harper exclaims, pulling out his handgun.

Alek follows, with the guards pointing their gun at the man and his men. They equally did the same thing as the same guy spoke.

"Wooh! Alright, settle down boys and girls. How about this. We just kill you and these people since the bounty says dead or alive!" he suggests, his smile even wider now as he points his gun back and forth between Alek and Harper.

"And _who_ are _you_? I'm guessing one of Viktor's fucktoys?" Harper asks, making sure to be as harsh as possible.

" _No_ ," the man answers, "mooore like….business partner," he says.

Harper blinks through the tiny space the bandana allows and the man gasps.

"Oh, I forgot! How rude of me. Let me introduce myself. John Irven, at your service," he winks, "but my friends call me Johnny," he adds."

"Reconsider that to Toothless since I'm about to bash that smile of yours out of that face," Harper retorts.

"Hm, hm, hm," Johnny hums, "What a badass indeed! Why can't you be like him, Matt?" he stares at a man who cowers back at this. "You're a bunch of pussies! Not like him!" Johnny points a finger to Harper.

Gunshot ricocheted around the place, followed by three of John's men falling to the ground. Harper instantly took this as a sign and started shooting, killing the man at the front while the guards were left to kill the rest. Harper charged at John, making John stop and halt his plan on firing at him. Tackling him and making his gun fly away, Harper gives him a right hook before headbutting him. As he turns him around and forces his cheek to the pavement, Harper spoke.

"Where the hell is Viktor? Same goes for Drago!" Harper yells.

John laughs, "Not sure. Ask siri. By the way, my phone is at the right pocket," he taunts, his lips puckering to point at the direction of his right pocket.

Harper bashes his jaw on the pavement. John groans, but a few moments later only laughs harder. Irritated, Harper only continuously bashed his head against the pavement until all his blood splattered around him and his teeth were all over the place.

Harper let's go of his head and forces Johnny to face him. Johnny seemed unrecognizable, his jaw dislocated and completely out of his place as the places where tooth once were bled endlessly. Aside from that, his sinister smile was now wiped out of his face and was replaced with a quivering lip.

"Open your mouth!" Harper growls.

Johnny quickly does so, presenting his teeth. Most of the ones up top were still intact, covered in dirt and blood while the ones below were shattered or completely gone. Harper gave a strong jab, delivering it to his upper teeth, effectively knocking him out.

Harper let's go of Johnny's limp body and stares at the soldiers around him, who stared at him fearfully. Stephen's eyes were wide while Alek's were filled of concern.

"Bring him to Alvin. I'll talk to him in a week, maybe," Harper orders.

His father nods and motions for the guards to carry John's unconscious body. The soldier's just dragged him carelessly, smearing blood all over the floor along their path.

Alek slowly approaches him, placing two of her fingers underneath his chin to tilt his face and make him look at her while the other two intertwined with his hand.

"You alright, Harper?" she asks, just above a breath.

"I guess but who in nine realms shot first?" Harper asks.

"That would be me Drake!" a voice yells as the source of it climbs off the wall.

"Shitty security by the way," the man comments. He wore a BMX helmet, covering his eyes with goggles. A greenish trench coat is what he wore, with a pack just right behind him. Alongside that, he also owned a Remington MSR in the color of black.

"No shit, no can do. I suppose, the great _Demsey Arcenson_!" Harper happily says, waving his hands dramatically.

"That's my name! Nice enough that I have a fan," Demsey says, removing his goggles and hanging it loosely around his neck followed by removing his helmet.

The guards pointed their rifles at Demsey, making him stop in his tracks with both hands raised. Harper gestures for them to stand down, then stares at his father. Stephen nods and the soldiers did as they're told, their fingers still hovering over the trigger just incase.

Demsey took a peek, testing the waters before quickly pulling Harper into a hug. Alek let's go of him and watches the two intertwine, Demsey happily squished at Harper's neck.

"Enough bullshit aside. I guess they know who you are, Harper?" he asks.

"You could say that, yes. But, what are you doing here?" Harper asks, eyeing Demsey's getup.

The smile on Demsey's face immediately vanished at the question and this worried Harper further.

"They're onto you, Harper, and chances are you might not be safe any longer."


	21. Chapter 20

_**CHAPTER TWENTY**_ : COLD HEARTED

Harper's eyes were wide as he processed Demsey's word. Demsey just stood there, a neutral look on his face as he flicked lint off his pants.

"What do you mean? Are you saying the guys we just dealt with are what? Just the beginning?" Harper asks.

"No, just bounty hunters working for Viktor. But chances are everyone knows you're in here. You must leave at once. They'll even burn this whole community down if they have to just so they can find you."

Stephen's eyes widened at this, at the thought of all his hard work, of Berk burning into ashes and it pained him. This left his eyes equally as wide as Alek's and Harper's, with his mouth opened slightly as he fell deep in thought.

"When did you last see them coming here?" Harper asks, now walking back to his house.

"I don't know. Maybe a few hours ago? Not sure. I needed to track you down so I went to the Defenders. Look, I got a ride outside the compound. Are you alone or this girl coming along?" Demsey asks, eyeing Alek from head to toe as he recalls Harper's slurred words once, when he described her as they dran.

"Well, I can't stop her," Harper comments.

"Damn right you can't," Alek adds, smiling.

Demsey's eyes narrowed into slits as he eyed the couple. "Alright when did you guys become a thing? I remember Harper talking about a blonde when we were drunk," he says, voicing out his thoughts as he watches Harper wince and mouth _shut up_ to him, "he wouldn't stop bragging about how beautiful, incredible, smart and angel-like she is."

Alek's head quickly snapped towards Harper's direction at this, an amused look taking over her face while Harper's was flushed beet red at the situation. Harper groans and Demsey chuckles at this. Demsey waited outside as Harper and Alek went over to his house, with Harper embarrassed while Alek laughed on the way, finding it cute that Harper even found it in himself to talk about her like that.

Alek sat on his bed, watching him pack his stuff. Harper tried his best to hide his flushed cheeks from embarrassment.

"How long have you been doing that? Bragging on how _beautiful_ and _incredible_ , _smart_ and — what was it? _Angel-like_ I am?" she teases, toying with her braid as Harper lets out a groan she giggles at.

"First, I had too much to drink. It was a party, after all, so I got wasted. Second, I always had those thoughts ever since I laid my eyes on you," Harper shyly says the second part as he wore his poncho.

Heading for the cabinet and taking spare clothes, he then goes to the bathroom to take some other stuff but most importantly his medical kit. He comes back out with his hands loaded and his pack nearly full.

He straps his gun and does a quick do-over, checking if he has anything else to bring before his gaze landed on Alek.

Suddenly, he remembered something.

"I suppose we can't, well, I mean —" he stammers, "How are we going to tell your parents, exactly?"

"Ask yours first," Alek retorts.

Harper sighs, facepalming and rubbing his temples as he realizes how much this'll devastate his mother. They've only reunited, and things just started to get better yet here they are, being separated again. He tells Alek to wait outside as he heads for his parents room.

As he opens the door, he is met with his mother who's fumbling with the tube that's supposedly placed on and in her nose to alleviate her breathing.

"Harper," Vallory acknowledges him weakly.

Harper smiles and sat at the side of his mother's bed, taking her hand in his as he gently tells her that he he has to go.

He instantly felt her grip loosen and worry start to emphasize the wrinkles on her forehead. She was frantic, quick to ask why he had to leave so Harper told her all of it. From his gruesome, dark past, and the origins of why people were hunting for him. He unveiled each of his secrets easily to his mother, she was like that. Very easy to talk to. Eventually, when he got to the last part, Vallory had a faint smile on her face, both hands clasping Harper's one hand as she inserts the stuff toy in between their grasp. Harper's hand instinctively tightens around it, squeezing it.

"Carry this, as if you carry all of us," she whispers, pulling Harper down to her and kissing his forehead. Harper smiles and pulls her in a hug in return before heading out, carelessly shoving and fumbling the tiny stuff toy in his bag.

On his way down, the door was already open and through the frame he could see not one, not two, but a _lot_ of people. The whole gang were out there with a Humvee parked behind them.

"What's this?" Harper asks, closing the door behind him and approaching Alek.

"Your father kinda told the gang and, well, half of them agreed to come with. You know the muttonheads refused but Stephen had his way," Alek answers.

Demsey came forward and cheekily smiles at Alek before stealing Harper from her grasp, pulling him down low enough so that only both of them can hear each other, "You sure about this? Three's a party but a huge group could put us in danger, Harper. You up for this?"

Harper thought about it, weighing out the pros and cons of the gang coming along. The pros weighed out the cons, but he couldn't help but worry about the latter because anytime, things could happen and alter their path. Despite that, he felt as if he should trust his instincts so he went with the pros.

"Look, a bigger group means more support and firepower. Besides, maybe we can use some of them as bait," Harper whispers, pointing towards Eret, Sam, and the twins slamming their heads against each other.

"Huh," Demsey considered, letting go of Harper's sleeve and walking out.

Alek came forward, a questioning look on her face. Her face regarded the crowd of people behind them, Sam by now picking his nose while Eret stood there with his arms crossed. Harper tells her to simply ignore it, leading the way to the Humvee. Heather, Cami and Frank rode it first while the rest decided to check Demsey's truck that was parked ahead.

"So, where's your truck parked?" Harper asks, turning the engine of the Humvee on for the three that sat inside. They all mumbled _thanks_.

His father suddenly came into view, approaching his side of the window. He looked nervous, sweat gleaming on his forehead and his shoulders were tense. Harper looked and felt the same way.

"Wait a sec," he mutters, hopping out the vehicle.

The car door opens and Stephen steps aside, watching Harper get out. Once his foot met the gravel, and they were at a reasonable distance, Stephen spoke.

"I- um, I want to apologize for — well, for not being much of a father to you. But I- I'm proud to call you my son," Stephen says just above a whisper, his hands hesitantly reaching out to lightly pat on Harper's left shoulder.

Harper's eyes slowly widened, his hands reaching out to lightly touch the one his father had on him. A small smile broke out on his lips, "Thanks, dad."

Giving each other another look one last time, Stephen bids Harper goodbye and watches him walk away with his friends. Harper left, ready to take a look at Demsey's truck. It's just a regular pickup truck, armored up. A makeshift bulldozer was displayed upfront, and the windows had the same fence-like design, meant to keep it bulletproof. The back of the pickup had a DshKm.

Everybody looked at the truck in awe.

"How did you manage to find a DShK?" Harper asks, dumbfoundedly as his eyes trailed over the thing.

"Eh, some cold war museum not far from the black market. You won't believe how long it took for me to recreate or find the missing parts of this thing. Converting the ammo was the hardest part. Took me, maybe, a year to convert it to a fifty caliber ammo," Demsey answers casually, his hands vaguely waving around in the air as he hops out the vehicle.

Harper got out and looked at Alek through the window, "You drive, we'll lead the way."

Alek nods, hopping out of the vehicle with the rest of the gang trailing behind here. When the car door of her seat slammed shut, the engine of Demsey's trucked roared to life.

Harper stayed at the back, busying himself with the DShK Sentry. After opening the cocked gun, he opens the magazine vault, looking to see the cartridges connected to a huge box, which he assumes was the ammo.

—

The city was relatively quiet, too quiet for Harper and Demsey's liking. They looked around, seeing no life at all. The city was dull and the sun didn't seem to do much to add color to it. There were no raiders nor Freaks roaming around either and they noticed that their usual routes were blocked off by array's of cars which were never there in the first place.

"I don't like this," Harper mutters wearily.

The gang drove slowly behind them as well and through the window, Harper can sense that they had the same feeling. They were getting closer to the black market, or what most knew as _Sinners Peek._

The marker sat atop a collapsed building, it's interior converted to look like a market itself. Some parts of it were meant to be homes for thieves or killers. Harper knew this, since he's similar to the latter and would used to come here to be hired or just have a good time.

While driving, a gunshot popped off and landed on the pickup truck, bouncing off the mirror. Alerted, Demsey stopped for a moment as Harper looked around, watching for any figures. He notices a reflection coming from the window of an abandoned office complex and points his turret at that direction. He then opens fire, hoping that the shot would instantly kill the person.

This was followed by a scream, but Harper was certain that it didn't come from the person he hoped to have shot. It came from behind him, from Alek's Humvee. _Doing something stupid again_ , he thought. In spite of himself, he then realizes the horde of Freaks coming their way. Harper wastes no time and immediately aims the turret at the Freaks, opening fire. One by one, each Freak fell. Either they got decapitated or shot completely.

Among the bodies of dead Freaks, one still stood. He was slow and Harper noticed that his chest started to grow a spore, similar to a mushroom. It kept growing and growing till the Freak exploded. It then released gas that seeped through the dead corpses, causing plant life to grow at a tremendously quick pace. The intestines of the Freaks were literal vines as the plant life slowly tangled itself with it.

Harper orders Demsey to drive, making sure to drive through the Freaks.

"Tier four," Harper mutters, watching the plant greedily situate itself on the bodies till no sign of flesh, or anything that didn't resemble green, were left to be seen.

Tier four weren't humans, and they were definitely not curable in any way. Mother nature has taken its course and wrapped itself around whatever it can within these types, having both body and mind lose to it and rendering the body hopeless and only useful for fertilizing, food, bait and other things. Since the infection was parasitic, it mutated as it went. Luckily, the infection needed a healthy environment and sea wasn't sufficient, which is why it hasn't crossed and reached other continents.

After much wincing at the wheels running over dead plant life, they finally arrived at Sinners Peek. Demsey and Harper got out first, followed by the gang. Harper approaches them, his gear ready and intact.

"Wait, look, you guys need to be careful. Once we go in you have to ignore _everything._ From the shopkeepers to the prostitutes," Harper informs.

"And _so_ , what are we going to do, Useless?" Sam asks, tauntingly.

"Simple, Snotlout, you stay close with us. We have a reputation here so you guys won't get touched. And, well, any attempts of disrespecting us I guess the community would pretty much hang you," Harper adds on, pointing at the dead bodies that hung limp uptop the gate, all the life drained from their faces.

The place was a mess, to them that is. They're used to seeing Berk and it's tents, with the tiny amount of grass growing on certain cracks. This place had a mix of everything, from inn's to brothel's, bars, strip clubs, even casinos. The scent of smoke was thick in the air and the girls couldn't help but choke and cough, swinging their hands to alleviate the scent. It was like Las Vegas, the city of sins. With much more emphasis on _sins_.

The girls noticed women wearing scantily clad outfits, some obviously too tight and made to attract drunken men while others only wore one article of clothing. Some even resorted to just wearing high heels. The girls were grossed out by this, not used to the very high amount of revelation shown in front of them while the guys — excluding Frank who busied himself — ogled at them, hesitating to take their offers.

"Alek tell the morons to stop eye-fucking the prostitute. Chances are they might attract attention," Harper scolds.

It's too late for that. A group consisting of six raiders stopped in front of them, confronting the guys.

"Never seen you here before. The hell is this? What kind of armor is this?" one of them asks, gesturing to the outfit the gang wore.

"Uh, are you stupid or blind?" Rebecca retorts.

The gang groans at this, while Rebecca mutters a _what_ matched with a shrug. The raiders on the other hand looked far from calm, one of them even pulling out a knife, ready to stab Rebecca. Harper beat him to it and threw his knife towards the raider's hand. The raider drops his knife and clutches his bleeding hand instead.

"I swear whoever threw that knife will meet the end of my boot!" he threatens, raising his other hand that was curled into a fist.

"Oh, alright then, let me kiss that boot of yours," Harper says, stepping forward.

The raiders instantly dropped or holstered their weapons as they stared at Harper, fear presented in each and every one of their faces. Harper picks up his knife calmly and grabs the guy's shirt, wiping the blood off of it.

"So, you want me to kiss your boot or do you I have to force you to kiss mine?" Harper states in a calm, business-like manner, his gaze shifting between all six of the men.

"What's with the silence? Afraid, may I ask?" Harper eggs on.

The gang was beyond uncomfortable at how Harper acted. Cold and sadistic, completely unfeeling and showing of no mercy. Demsey just watches, mostly used to this as Harper clutches the man's shirt and slams him down onto the floor, pressing his boot on his head.

"Now, how about this," Harper starts, "you leave and I don't kill you. But if I see you, or any other rat among you, I'll personally exterminate you. Painfully, might I add," Harper adds, the pressure of his booth becoming heavier and heavier as each word rolled out of his mouth.

"Yes, sir," the man nods, scrambling up once Harper lets him go. All six of them scurried away.

The guys on the other hand were quiet after the incident as they approach a stall next to a medium sized building. Demsey opens the door and switches on the lights.

Everyone sat down on where they could while Demsey got into the fridge and offers Harper a beer, to which Harper politely declines and Cami takes instead. Demsey shrugs and opens himself a can of beer before finding a comfortable position on the couch, while the rest of the gang sat on the chairs leaned against the wall.

"Mind telling me what you did back there to scare them?" Heather asks as she approaches Harper, her arms crossed as she waits for a response.

Harper shrugs, "If you were here your whole life, being in the center of that square, walking into a bar or inn and killing a group of raiders single handedly everytime, then you might have a chance of giving that effect."


	22. Chapter 21

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**_ **: A BOUNTY NOT WORTH COLLECTING**

 **HARPER'S POV**

Everyone seemed well rested after getting to Demsey's place. Everyone except for Demsey himself, who was up all night chatting with Cami. In a span of 24 hours, they seem to be well acquainted with how close they've already been to each other.

Demsey was shy as well throughout the whole time they've talked. He told me he was a quiet kid back at school, and he never really had much friends like I did. Sometimes he'd thank me for boosting his confidence, since he didn't really have much of that and I can see that Cami as well is trying to help with it. She comforted him and told him things like _it's okay_ and _you're good_ to help ease the tenseness that was evident in him.

He reminds me a bit of myself, minus the fact that he wasn't really bullied.

Back when I was still at the Bewilderbeast, they'd always tell me, and I quote, to " _man up, Haddock_."

I guess that's what happened to me. Everyday they'd say that and eventually it kind of got into me, and I really did man up to the point where I did things that the man I am today regrets. I killed people who were only trying to survive, I did unimaginable things that always haunted me at night and the only thing that kept me at bay was the alcohol I'd consume on nearly a daily basis.

The nightmares started small, only coming during specific nights but ever since then they started to come more frequently and that's where my tolerance and liking for alcohol began to build. It was disgusting sometimes, the amount of it I'd consume. I knew I had to decrease it because drinking even more would lead me to my death. _Death._ Usually, that thought would've made me rejoice, hell, maybe even prepare for the funeral of it but ever since I reunited with Alek and rekindled whatever feelings I had leftover for her, it just...changed.

I don't want to leave her, not like that. I don't want to just die after everything she's done and I don't want to miss a day without hanging out with her, even so much as to seeing her.

I clung to hopes of having a normal life again, considering only North and South America were the ones infected. Sooner or later, maybe Mala would find a way, get some help perhaps, and we'd all get out of his heap of mess and started a new life.

The thought of having a family with Alek warms my chest and makes me feel so giddy. I can imagine it, vaguely, all four of us happily at our home in some tiny apartment playing some random board game together, forgetting anything that's left of the past. Chances are I might even tell them the things that have happened now as a bedtime story. After a few tweaks here and there because it mostly consists of violence.

That would definitely be something.

"Harper, you still there?" Alek asks, waving her hand in front of my face.

I shook my head and rapidly blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. I smile at her and pull her in closer for a half-hug. The gang currently busied themselves at Demsey's firing range, testing his guns. I'm certain that they'd love to get a fair share of his hardware.

"Yeah, zoned out for a bit. You know," I mumble.

"What were you thinking about?"

I blush at this. "I was just thinking if we could still have a normal life after this."

"Not sure about that, merc, since this is pretty normal to us," she says with a smile.

I smile at her, at what she's just said. "I mean, like, we can all have the normal life like we used to, you know? Go back to school, college or something, and all that. Settle down, have a family…" I trail off with the second part, making sure to keep it light hearted as possible so she wouldn't take it as anything but she seems to have caught on.

It was silent for a moment, with her just staring at me. It grew awkward and awkward as each minute passed by till, until, finally _and_ thankfully, she spoke.

Her mouth hung open, finding the right words as she exhales and speaks, "Are you saying you want to start a family with me?"

If it were any more possible, I felt my cheeks heat up. I think they've turned even more redder as well. I'm embarrassed, both at the fact that she's easily figured it out and also how it's always been my dream, to have and start a life with her.

"No!" I blurt out, "m-maybe. Yes, I-I don't know! I-I mean, you know I want you. I want to have a life with you, I-I...I care for you and…oh Gods _why_ ," I groan, realizing that I've exposed myself completely.

She shook her head at this and pulls me into a kiss. We both pull back for air.

"First of all, merc, I care for you. Second of all, I want to have a life with you as well. If that's still possible," she says, chuckling at the last part.

I just smile at her and settle deeper on the couch, letting her warmth embrace the both of us.

The loud knocking on Demsey's door startles us. Demsey and I shared glances at this, ordering the others to get behind the couch as the both of us headed for the door. Demsey tosses a handgun towards me and I settle on placing it behind my back, and so did he with his weapon. The both of us were cautious, his hand slowly reaching out to the knob and twisting it, pulling the door open.

The door opens and reveals us Edward, one of Demsey's trusted couriers who'd deliver guns to us. He was breathing heavily, panting as he choked out words.

"Boss, we have a problem. Some folks outside are stirring up trouble, searching for you. Especially Drake," he points a shaky finger towards me.

Demsey and I shared worried glances and the man didn't seem to take notice of this, and even if he did, he just brushes it off and continues.

"They're the folks from Manhattan, you know, those guys who took over most of the city. Look, they have serious firepower, boss, same goes for their numbers. I counted at least thirteen and remember one of them having a metal arm."

I felt my throat close in at those two simple words. A _metal arm._ My hands felt clammy as I dug my nails onto my palm, feeling the half-moon crescents beneath my fingertips. Demsey headed over to the back while the others stared, not sure of what was going on. Alek, on the other hand, approached me.

Her hand clutched my chin and gently tilted it to face her. "Harper, what was that? Harper, look at me?" she calls but her voice seemed so distant and I couldn't find my voice.

I stared at the ground, unwavering and ignoring her calls. _This is all my fault._ I should have left when I was given the chance. They don't deserve this. _Alek_ doesn't deserve this.

Demsey came back to the room with a duffle bag in hand. He slams it onto the dining table, the weapons inside it clinking with the glass as he unloads it with urgency.

"Everybody, load up! We have serious trouble in our hands," Demsey informs as he picks up a TAR 21 and cocks it.

Everyone did what he said and picked up a rifle of their own. Guilt cracked through, pouring itself endlessly as I watch everyone inspect their weapons. _This is it_ , I can stop right here and leave right this moment. With everyone safe and sound. Or, I risk their lives for the sake of my safety.

"Stop," I murmur, but no one seemed to have taken notice of this. My voice was overpowered by the sound of the rifle's being loaded and unloaded, so I tried again.

"Stop," I say, "guys, _stop._ "

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me.

"Look, guys, you can't be involved any longer. Just...get back to Berk. Demsey, you get them back to Berk."

They all looked uncertain and so did I, but this isn't how I want it to be. I don't want to risk their lives. Staring, I wait for them to move. Alek did so first, but I already knew her too well to know that this is, yet again, another form of her defiance.

"There is _no_ way I'm leaving you, Harper. I already promised you that I'm not leaving. I'm staying by your side," she says with a tone of finality, arms crossed on her chest.

I groan, rubbing my temples. My eyes shut. _Stubbornness must be in her fucking genes._

"Listen, there is _no_ way in hell that I'm allowing you to come with me. You can still have a life," I mumble the last part, added with a vague gesture of my hands.

"Yeah, and you can't?" she retorts.

"I chose this life!" I fire back.

The room fell silent. Frank immediately stopped geeking with Heather and Cami, their heads all down and staring at the floor. The twins and the two muttonheads have shut up as well, pausing in an odd position. Rebecca's fist up in the air, ready to land on Trevor's face while Sam just stood there, his hand extended out and in between Eret's grasp. He quickly retracts it and watches the scene unfold instead.

"I chose...I chose this life," I choke out, much softer this time.

"Listen to me, Alek. I want to be with you, I really do. But if keeping you away from me, away from what's out there is what's gonna keep you alive _and_ safe then that's a price I'm willing to pay. Even if...even if I don't ever see you again, as long as you're alive, I'm okay," I tell her.

She stares at me for a moment, silently inspecting me. I did the same thing, memorizing each and every curve of her features. Her lips that spoke of things that somehow found ways to help me, her eyes that magnified those letters that were carefully strung together, made for me. And everything else that were insignificant, but brought me happiness.

"Harper," she says in the same tone she always does. There's no word to describe it, but it's calming and always brought my nerves at ease, "you don't want to be this. Yet, you became it. Became him. I know that you're still here," she traces the left part of my chest lightly, "I know that you regret this," she pulls back the hand and motions towards me vaguely, "But you can change that. Second chances come and go and this is it. Don't lose it."

I look at her and smile, maybe for the last time, and pull her into a kiss.

"Uh, not to ruin the moment but we have bounty hunters on our ass!" Sam interrupts, his hands thrown up in the air only to quickly cling back to the crutches when he lost his balance.

I pull back from the kiss and walk to the guns on the racks, my fingers ghosting lightly on the metal that came across it's way, stopping on it's favorite. My favorite.

"AK mags are at the right," Demsey informs.

"What gun is that?" I hear Frank ask from behind me, his voice soft and a bit weary.

"Oh, this. It's an AK-PDW. Tactical version of the AK. Overall light and has decent accuracy and firepower," I answer as I look over the chest, AK mags falling into my line of vision, followed by a drum magazine. A smile tugs at my lips as I place all the magazines in my vest and tuck the drum magazine in my pack.

"Edward, you get the gang to the cars. I'll be behind you guys. I'll go deal with Drago, buy you all some time," I inform them the moment I got up and turned around.

Alek's mouth opens and, as I've said earlier, I knew her too well to know that this would be another protest so I beat her to it, stating my piece with a tone of finality and order.

"No, Alek, you stick with the gang. Demsey and I will buy you guys some time. Just drive around and get to Keelson street. Park near the Burger King, we'll meet you there," I tell her.

She just nods and follows Edward, who opens the door and lets the gang out. When the door slams shut, Demsey turns to look at me.

"Well, Demsey, any regrets?" I ask as I cock my gun.

"I didn't ask Cami to be my girlfriend," he blurts out.

"Already?" I roll my eyes, "you guys _just_ met and you're already asking her to be your girlfriend?"

"Shut up," he dismisses with a smile on his face.

I chuckle at this as I open the door on the way out. Demsey stays behind for a moment to lock it and follows me out to the square of the makeshift town. We hid at an alleyway, looking around.

After some time, we climbed up a service ladder that fell into our line of sight, leading us to the rooftop where we heard a Scottish like accent yelling for something. And that something sounds like me.

"For the last time, where is Drake? We will pay a decent amount to anyone who has information!" this say voice yells.

"Garret," I sneer as the voice continues screaming to absolutely no one. People just brushed him off. He stood there with his brother, Viktor, accompanied with a couple of men who formed a protective wall around Drago.

I pull out my Springfield and cock the bolt, looking at the scope. Demsey scoffs and grabs my hand, pulling it down immediately before I could even do anything.

"Don't do anything stupid!" he hisses.

I pull my hand back and for a moment, just let it rest there. After that, I looked through the scope again and aimed my gun at Drago's head. By now, I was too late because he was already looking, with that maddening grin of his plastered all over his face. I want to wipe that off.

He points his one good arm at us. His men opened fire, while I made sure to aim my gun at them. I pull the trigger, instantly killing the one in front.

This caught everyone's attention in town, which lead them to start opening fire as well. They were mostly raiders and hired guns. Due to this, Drago and his little party had to take cover wherever they could find.

I smile and use this as leverage to escape. We run down the building and take the shortcut out of town. On our way out, we heard yelling. I turn my head a little, noticing that Viktor, Garret and his men were trailing behind, readying to open fire.

Demsey takes out a grenade, pulls the pin and shakes it before throwing it at the people behind us. The smoke lets out a _pop_ and we use this to buy time by accelerating our steps, running even more faster towards the exit.

The footsteps behind us were getting closer but the fog was helping us a little so Demsey and I took a sharp turn and hid behind a wrecked car. We notice a bunch of Viktor's mercenaries coming into view, most of them holding standard American issue gear paired with civilian shirts and pants. The one thing that tugged a smile at my face was the fact that they completely ditched wearing helmets.

I glance at Demsey and he had a smile as well. We aim our guns and fire, watching the men fall and the men beside them blindly fire back in panic. Demsey used this as a time to pull out another grenade, he shook it and held it for three seconds before throwing it towards the direction of the confused mercenaries. One of them screamed _grenade_ but it was too late as it exploded all over the place.

Demsey and I ran again, making our way to the city ruins. The footsteps behind us have seemed to decrease but up ahead of us, new problems came into view. A bunch of screeching Freaks ran towards our way, most of them tripping on each other due to the speed they were running at.

When we came into view, they screeched louder, probably in delight. Demsey and I open fire but they were far too many and we were outnumbered so Demsey pulls out another grenade and throws it at their direction.

The both of us looked back, watching it explode. Most of them got hurt but there were still a good portion of them that managed to survive it the explosion and continued running at us, unfazed.

"Fuck!" Demsey swore as the both of us picked up our pace and ran faster than we did before. We stopped again and opened fire but most of our shots missed. While we ran, we reloaded and dropped mags along the way.

For the second time, we stopped but this time I didn't hip fire, but instead I placed the butt of my rifle at my shoulder and opened fire, killing the ones running upfront. The ones behind them tripped as they tried to get some momentum, only for Demsey to open fire at them, killing them instantly. More screeches came but thankfully we made it to Burger King.

Sam sat there on the turret while the rest held conversations with each other. Edward leaned on the side, having a smoke break. He drops the cigarette the moment he saw us.

Edward hops in the driver's seat, his boot crushing the cigar completely on the ground while doing so. The gang looks at our way, then behind us, and their eyes widened at the horde of Freaks coming.

"Well, don't just fucking stand there. Shoot!" I yell at Sam and he frantically moves the weapon. Sam, who's nerves seem to be a in rack, pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He pulls it again but nothing happens. The Freaks were still at a considerable distance, but, _still_ , they were gaining speed and any minute now they could be standing right in front of us.

"Cock it, you moron!" Demsey snaps, scratching at his head in annoyance.

Sam nods and cocks the turret, opening fire and killing the first few Freaks that came into view. There were still more. _Is it Black Friday? Why is there so fucking many of them?_ Demsey and I ran to the Humvee and jumped at the back, yelling for whoever sat at front to drive.

—

All three of the cars drove far away from the Freaks who failed at trying to catch up.

Hack at Sinners Peek, the gun fight has finally came to a halt since Drago and Viktor has lost most of their men, including their reinforcements.

Garret came into view, his skin covered with blood and scorch marks. Same could be said for the men who trailed behind him, a few limping.

"I take it that he got away, little brother," Viktor says calmly.

"Ay, bastard threw a grenade at the right time," Garret sneers, wiping off some of the blood.

"Well, Drago, we got them on the run. Where do you think they're going?" Viktor inquires, staring at the man who was deep in thought.

Drago just glares at the two brothers and walks away, his cape draping behind him.


	23. Chapter 22

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**_ : **DRAGONS OF WILDERBEAST**

The wheels of the vehicle crunches against the leaves on the gravel as they continue driving, finally far away from the screeching horde of Freaks. Demsey tells Edward to drive to a safehouse that was located nearby a FEMA checkpoint in the suburban area of California.

Harper sat cozily at the back, napping, with Alek cuddled his side who occasionally wiped the sweat off his forehead and would nap as well from time to time.

They finally reached the suburban area and there wasn't really much difference. Wrecked cars were everywhere, plant life grew on anything it could cling on. There were suitcases and luggages all over the place as well, except the items inside were of no use as well due to the plants growing on the things, blocking anyone who dared to touch the items. Gunned down bodies by the national guard were also scattered everywhere.

Few Freaks littered the area, indifferent to the vehicles passing in front of them.

Demsey's face was pale as he eyes the items and Freaks scattered around. This is where he grew up in and now he comes back to only what's left of it. It's not the first time he's been here, and it's definitely not the last, but it still hurts to look at something you've love the most and see it destroyed. The safehouse, or what used to be known as his house, was just a fifteen minute drive away.

His face was stoic as he remembers watching his parents get mauled alive before turning into _them_ , which forced him to kill them.

A gunshot suddenly flares towards their truck, instantly waking Harper up. He pulls out his AK as Demsey pulls the vehicle to a stop. Looking around, Harper notices cars driving towards them from the back. Harper was about to yell to Demsey, to tell him to drive forward but the three cars at the front already beat him to it, blocking their only way out.

The passengers of the vehicle got out, most of them wearing makeshift armor.

"Get out, now! Weapons down!" they all yell together.

The gang had no choice but to comply, dropping all their weapons at the car and hopping out, lining themselves up in front of the cars up ahead. They stood there for a moment, up until a man with red hair came forward. The rusty iron and scrap metal his makeshift Kevlar was made of gleamed under the sun.

He held his axe close to him as he walks by the line, scanning the array of people and stopping in front of a man who had auburn hair. He drops his axe in excitement and pulls Harper in for a hug.

"Brother! It's finally good to see you, it's been so long!" Derrick yells. Sometimes that's what he calls himself, but for theatrical purpose — or, at least, that's what Harper thinks — he calls himself Dagur the Deranged.

Harper glares at him, "Not your brother, Derrick," he grits out. Derrick simply smiles.

"At first we were brothers! Up until you started killing innocent lives for fun," Harper adds.

"You're still mad about that, Haddock? Besides, you went rogue too!" Derrick slaps a hand on Harper's back, causing him to lurch forward and inch closer to Derrick.

"Yeah, I went rogue since I wanted no part in Bludvist's plan. But, you! You on the other hand wanted blood," Harper sneers.

"Oh, come on, as if you hadn't. Remember, Harper, you ordered that massacre. You were a follower, like us," Derrick argues, grinning now.

Instantly, everyone's head snaps to Harper, staring at him with wide eyes. Harper tried to keep his anger at bay. He knew he had some explaining to do.

Harper sighs, then gulps, before looking at the gang and explaining, "I had no choice. It was either follow or die, submit or die. I-It was me or them. They had it coming since they tried to raid us but they needed to survive and I saw it before Drago gave me the order, too…" Harper starts, trailing off. He inhales, ready to continue what he's said only to be cut off by Derrick.

"Okay, enough with the drama," he rubs his temples in an exaggerated way, "I have a bounty to collect. Your friends on the other hand might have a purpose, especially those girls…" his eyes scan over the four girls huddled together. Rebecca grimaces at him, sticking her tongue out.

The girls look at him with disgust as the men carry Harper by his feet. Harper immediately headbutts the Berserker on the right followed by kneeing the one on the left.

Demsey took this as a sign and tackles the guard in front of him. Sam and Eret follows, doing the same thing. Suddenly, gunfire coming from upfront reached over them, instantly knocking over all the Berserkers.

Derrick yells, running to the right to avoid the armored delivery van coming into view. It carelessly rammed through the cars. It clumsily parks in front of Harper as the passengers went out. They wore the same tactical vest and backpack as Harper did.

"Harper, don't make this any worse than it has to be," one of them says, stepping forward and pointing a finger at him.

Harper stood there, not making any move as he glares at the man. "Timothy," he says menacingly.

"Sorry, mate. It was either _me_ or _you_. And I choose _me_ ," he apologizes and pulls Harper to him.

"Wait!" Harper yells, stopping the men in their tracks. Timothy groans, muttering a _now, what?!_ underneath his breath.

"Look, Thug. You let them go," Harper points to the gang, "You want me, not them. I'll go willingly if you let them go," he says with a tone of finality.

Timothy thought about it first, nodding right after and ordering his men to cut their restraints.

"Cut their restraints. You four, watch over them. Make sure they won't do anything!" Timothy barks, his men immediately doing what he orders them.

The gang just glares at the _Dragons_ as they cut their restraints and push them forward, a bit too aggressively for any of their liking.

"We'll find you, Harper, don't worry," Demsey reassures him. Harper simply smiles and shakes his head.

"Don't bother. I'm a dead man anyways," Harper dismisses him and Demsey just laughs at this.

One of Timothy's men throws a bag over Harper's head, roughly escorting him into their vehicle. As the door shuts, the gang watches the car vanish off into the distance.

 **ALEK'S POV**

"Harper!" I yell and, thankfully, the car came to a stop.

Harper jerks his head, struggling. "Get off me!" he yells. When no one answers, his hand felt around the vehicle, finding themselves headbutting a guy. Seconds later, they were now forcefully removing a man's grip on him. Harper calls out to some man named _Timothy_ to remove the bag covering his face.

"Oh for the love of fucking god. _Now,_ what?!" Timothy groans, his hands thrown up in the air in exasperation as he steps out his side of the vehicle, untangling the ropes that kept the bag on Harper's face.

Harper wastes no time removing the bag and ran to me. I ran to him as well, pulling him into a kiss. We didn't have much time, so as much as I could, I placed all that I would've said to Harper through that kiss. How much I love him, how much I want a family with him, how much I want a life and to be safe with him.

The both of us eventually had to pull back for air. I haven't let go of him yet completely, my hands still clung to him as he pulls me in for a hug the second time.

"Don't worry about me, I'll find a way back. I might head back to Manhattan. Tell Demsey to talk to Mala and Dmitri. Mala might not be much of help, but I'm sure Dmitri will. Oh, and Derrick is still here. You can ask him about it. Have it your way," he whispers to me before being hauled back roughly to their vehicle.

They place the sack back on him again, driving off completely this time.

I watch for a few more minutes, savoring the view of the van before it took a sharp right turn and vanished completely. My gaze shifted to Derrick, who was tending to his head. I march my way to him and swung a right hook, knocking him out completely.

"Demsey, we need to get back to the Wing," I say, kicking Derrick just to make sure.

He nods before speaking, "yeah, I know where they're headed to. Problem is, army blew up the bridges connecting to Manhattan and it's impossible for a helicopter to land down there since most of the building collapsed during the bombing runs."

"But Harper told me to talk to Mala and Dmitri, for help," I argue.

He tilts his head slightly to the left before looking down, he then faces his head back up and, with a look of astonishment and realization, says, "Dmitri...of course!"

"Why? What's so important about him?" Cami asks.

"Dmitri was a fisherman before everything went south. Chances are, his old boat still might be around," he answers.

"Yeah, alright, but what about him?" Heather asks, pointing to Derrick who twitched a little before falling unconscious again.

"Well, technically, he was still with Harper before he went rogue so he might have info on the place, mostly," Frank says.

"Yeah? And what? Let a psycho, let alone a deranged guy, lead us to our deaths? Sure, fishface, let's go with that!" Sam angrily counters.

"Look, we have no choice. I personally don't know the place despite knowing Harper for four years now. We've only met in secret before we both moved here to California," Demsey adds.

"Wait," Eret interrogates, two hands raised up slightly in the air as he pauses dramatically, "you mean to tell me you both knew each other for a long time?"

"Um, let's think out of the box, shall we?" Demsey starts, putting out two hands, "I'm an arms dealer and a smuggler. I sell guns to the highest bidder, tha being Drago, and during that time Harper was his right-hand man, next to Viktor and Garret. Are we catching up?"

We all nod, except for Eret who mutters "is this guy taking me for an idiot?"

Whether Demsey took notice of this or not, he simply brushes it off and continues. "Harper did most of the bidding, which got me to sell my new surplus of guns to the Wilderbeast. Then, he noticed I had a rifle which I made personally for me to sell. He asked me how much, and when he realized that he couldn't afford it, I told him to do me a favor in exchange for it. This is one of the reasons why he became a mercenary," he says, shrugging at the end.

"So, overall, you both have a history with each other," I summarize.

"Yeah, sure, let's go with that," he says.

We stared at each other one last time before he faces Edward and tells him something.

"Edward, grab some handcuffs. It's by the glove compartment. The keys are at the right, next to the handgun," he tells him.

Edward nods, walking back to the truck. He emerges from it, holding the things Demsey specifically told him to get. They both strode towards Derrick, Edward holding him up while Demsey handcuffs him.

"Sam, Trevor. You two drag this bastard behind the Humvee. Here," he throws them the keys which the both of them ungracefully caught, spending a few minutes fighting over who should get a hold of it. Sam wins. Demsey rolls his eyes. "And you two watch over him as well. If he gets out, I swear to the god Loki, I'll bury you both alive," he threatens, but it sounded more playful than he actually meant.

"Wait, what do you mean by _Loki_?" Rebecca asks all of a sudden, adding to my curiosity.

The surprising thing was he spoke in Scandinavian. To us, Scandinavian classes were mandatory since we all came from a Viking heritage.

"I'm Scandinavian, like you all. Why do you think me and Harper get along so well? My father taught me when I was young," Demsey tells us in Norse.

"You kind look like us," Cami adds all of a sudden, eyes narrowed down into slits as she stares down at Demsey. He chuckles at this.

Demsey and her had a quick stare down, Demsey ending it first as he hops in his truck. We followed suit, hopping into ours.

 **HARPER'S POV**

I can't see anything.

Yeah, _of course_ , no fucking shit you can't, since there's a bag placed on my head. Courtesy of Timothy's men, might I add. Such grand service.

 _Yeah, no, how about let's use a dirty, smelly, sweaty bag instead of a simple blindfold._ It was hard breathing in this thing, it smelled of rotten eggs and unwashed socks both combined to create the most unpleasant scent ever to enter my nostrils.

To make New York a safe haven in the future, they had to blow up all the bridges that lead to Manhattan. Which is why I can tell that, right now, we're headed to the port instead.

The disease spread through ground, so bombing the top of city and the bridges were kind of pointless. This then lead the military in opting to level the city up.

The real problem, however, lies in the sewers and metros. These areas became nesting grounds or hives for the infected and the National Guard's and FEMA's attempt to bomb this up only made matters worse. This created a huge hole, just near the Times Square, causing the Freaks — whom they didn't know were still under there — run and spread out the infection throughout the whole city.

I know the Dragons were there, helping the army set up explosives before the city got infected.

There would be times where I'd blame myself for the whole ordeal, since we were the cause of the outbreak in New York. Even way before Drago came into power, we tried to get survivors, tried to keep Manhattan at bay, but only failed due to the lack of manpower, especially with looters and criminals coming out of Riker's.

A war between us and them has started and we had no choice but to go into hiding. The safezone was built in the residential area of New York. While most people lived in the comfy confines of their apartments, we had makeshift walls, along with watch towers up top the roofs. Everyday, as our community grew, we needed to push forward and gain some ground along the way to house in more survivors.

The van made a sharp stop, lunging me forward and cutting me out of my string of thoughts. I was dragged out and the sack was finally removed. My vision was blurry and all I could see were silhouettes of figures, moving around.

Eventually, the silhouette dialed down and formed into one of a man, who towered in front of me.

I look up at him and smirk, still the smartass that I am.

"Hey, Drago, how's the arm? You know your head should be the one off, right?" I happily greet the man.

He huffs, pulling me forward and grabbing a hold of my throat, squeezing the life out of it. Out of me.

"You got out of my clutches once, _boy_. And I'm going to make sure you feel the same thing _I_ did when you shot my arm off!" he growls, pulling me closer to his face one last time before throwing me carelessly on the floor.

I cough hysterically, trying to get some air in my throat. When I finally got an ample amount, I choked out, "Yeah, and I'm going to make sure _you_ die begging for mercy!"

It was a mistake. A pretty big one, actually. Timothy — _Thuggory_ — suddenly came into view, his eyes rolling in a sign of annoyance as he takes the butt of his rifle and slams it onto my face.

Darkness replaced the blurriness I once saw as I fall back to the ground, unconscious.


	24. Chapter 23

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**_ : **THE HARD TRUTH**

Alek was beyond worried for Harper's sake. Aside from the once he's told her, she has no knowledge of the other mistakes he's committed in his past.

Another thing she feared of, and equally worried as much of as well, were Dmitri and Mala's help. Dmitri helping them sounds realistic, with a few tweaks here and there. But Mala? It seems like a different type of story.

She prays to Odin, prays that Harper won't do anything stupid that'll add more to Drago's already brimming anger as they try and get some help.

They were still on the road, driving, which was a complete pain in all aspects of it since Derrick wouldn't stop screaming. He has been complaining for hours now, about a lot of things. His headache. His hunger. _Everything_. His loud voice could be heard by everyone, even if he sat at the last Humvee in the convoy.

Alek rubs her temples and thinks of other things, like Cami and Demsey. The thing is, she's suspecting that there's things going on between them because for the past few hours, they've already gotten along quite well. She can tell that they were both in it for each other.

Derrick's loud yells, this time something about his foot, pierces through her thoughts, making her and everyone else close to her groan. Silence quickly follows halfway through the yell.

That's odd. Usually his hissy fits would end with some theatrical speeches. Alek cranes her neck and sees Derrick knocked out cold again, with Sam and Trevor fist bumping.

The cars came to a sudden halt, hurling her forward. She gripped the side of her seat to ease herself as she listens to Mala use the same sentence she did the first time they got there.

Demsey went out of his truck first, yelling back at her.

"It's me, my queen. I have a personal problem, to which I am asking assistance for!"

"Not this time, smuggler," Mala yells back, "you promised us good shipment of goods yet you gave us nothing but dirt."

Demsey's smile twisted into a frown as he palms his own face in shame, muttering something about scamming Russians.

"My queen, this is a serious problem! It's Harper Haddock, and chances are he might not make it. Drago has him and they're heading back to Manhattan!" he makes an attempt again.

The queen remained silent. The only answer we received were the gates opening. Demsey runs back to his truck and drove in, followed by the rest. The moment the gang came out, armed guards quickly came in and pointed their guns at Demsey, instantly making him surrender.

This was followed by Throk and Mala. Throk held an AK which he pointed at Demsey's head. Mala came in, inspecting him before shifting her gaze to the gang.

"Alright. What's this problem about Harper Haddock and Drago Bludvist?" she inquires.

"Wait, you know Drago?" Frank chimes in.

"Of course. He tried to raid us, back in Manhattan, before we moved here in California. We used to be in Queen's. We didn't know Drago was there, but luckily, Harper came in. At first we were hesitant, unaware of him being defected, but thank God he came or we'd all be dead," she explains.

"Wait," Alek interjects, "what do you mean? You knew Harper already?"

"No, I only knew him as Drake before you came in," she gestures towards the gang.

"But that doesn't answer the question. Harper didn't tell who he was to you?" Alek interrogates further.

Mala's eyes widens at this, accepting defeat and losing the argument.

"My queen, we must tell them the truth," Throk informs softly, but due to how quiet the room was, it was loud enough to reach the ears of the others.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Mala agrees. "Throk, bring them to the throne room," she orders before walking away.

Confusion was plastered on everyone's faces. What did Throk mean by _the truth?_ They immediately followed when Throk lead the way.

The deeper they went, the more they saw. The first few things that came in sight were the shacks that stood on the bleachers. They were now walking at a faster pace, so this gave them no more time to look further. They enter the deeper part of the stadium, walking up a staircase that lead to a VIP area converted to a throne room.

Mala sat there, with the guards behind her at their post. She nods to Throk, and Throk acknowledges her back and goes to close and lock the doors.

The guards immediately pointed their guns at the gang. Most of them yelped, a bit surprised at the sudden act. Their hands rose as Mala got off the throne to speak.

"Whatever is discussed here must not and will never ever leave this room. Understood?" Mala says, a stern look on her face as she awaits any form of responses.

They all nod in unison, murmuring words of agreement. Mala simply raised her hand and this ceased the murmurs. Slowly, she walks back to her throne, taking a seat.

The guards lowered their guns and walked back to their posts.

Mala waits for a moment, hearing them shuffle. In a beat, she spoke. "How well do you know about the outbreak?"

They all looked at her, confused. All except for Frank who raised his hand. Mala notices him and motions him to come forward. He reluctantly does so, not before squeaking in fear as his feet took him upfront.

"Who are you?" Mala asks

Throk elbows him hard, "Well, don't just stand there! Answer her majesty's question."

Frank panics, his mind instantly going blank and all he could remember was that one speech he was practiced to say in times similar to these.

"My name is Frank Ingerman, I live in Berk and I'm twenty years old," he says in a panicked tone, making everyone groan. His cheeks were tinted a bright red.

"Yes, I see that, but how well do you know about the outbreak?" she asks, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

He took deep breaths, cleared his throat, and spoke. "While the media at least _tried_ to cover uo the story, I managed to check some files in a secured server from the government. I was snooping around and came across a file called _Operation Venus._ I checked the file to see the outbreak wasn't an accident, but was on purpose…"

Mala's eyes went wide as she jumps off her throne, _literally_ , and approaches Frank.

"How did you manage to enter that secured server? And, we had encrypted most of the files!" she asks, shaking his shoulders frantically.

"What do you mean, encrypted most of the files?" Heather asks.

"And what's Operation Venus?" Cami adds.

The guards slowly turned agitated, their fingers flying to the triggers of their rifles, ready to shoot any minute as Mala spoke.

"Fine, you want to know the truth?" she huffs, "It was no accident. It was a mere test in a small remote town, next to the lab, but there were some complications before the outbreak, which made us start the operation, shutting down the Mexican border overall. But that has also failed, so here we are now," Mala informs.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Eret trails off, "so you're meaning to tell me that the government tried to weaponize _plants_?!" he asks.

"Yeah and look where it got us!" Sam follows, hands up as he gestures to his surroundings, "um, _hello_ , in an apocalyptic world!"

Mala smiles at this. "That's where you're wrong."

"What?" Eret and Sam asks in unison.

"Not world, just continent," she answers for them.

"What do you mean by continent?" Alek asks, now curious.

"Only North and South America, same goes for Canada. You see, we are the only ones affected by the disease. I have managed to gain some communication from London, they're still trying to get all the manpower they need to evacuate any remaining survivors here."

"But why didn't they come sooner? It's been five years, by now the UN should've come saving us!" Cami asks, a hint of hurt in her tone.

"It's not that simple. There were complications. They needed to know how contaminant this disease is, so they studied it. By now, they've finished their research and are here to rescue us….soon?" Mala's tone became uncertain at the end.

"How long?" Heather asks.

"Maybe in a month or two. Until then, we have to wait. But, off to the problem at hand. I can't help you with manpower, you're on your own with that. However, I can give you supplies for your journey. But to get there is impossible since…" Mala trails off.

"Most of the bridges were cut down during the outbreak," Demsey finishes.

"Precisely."

"How about Dmitri?" Demsey asks.

"Yes, and what about Dmitri?" Mala asks back.

"Is his fishing boat still back at the pier at the Venice beach?" Demsey asks again.

Mala remains silent and motions for a guard to come forward. She whispers something in his ear and moments later Dmitri enters the room, with the same guard trailing behind him.

"Your majesty," he greets.

Mala nods and motions to the gang that stood behind him. He merely shrugs them off.

"Dmitri," she acknowledges, "I suppose your boat still works?"

"Yes, of course, my sweet Viktoriya! She must be crying, I left her without a kiss!" he exclaims, placing the back of his hand on his forehead.

"And there you go," Mala says, facing Demsey, "I see it that you talk to him," she says, leaving the room with Throk and the guards trailing behind.

"Before you speak," Dmitri says once the doors have closed, "my contacts told me of the problem and I am willing to help. But we need more people. We can't handle Drago alone. More people is equal to more spirit!" he points out.

"We can always call for some help from Berk," Demsey suggests.

"He does have a point," Sam agrees, "but I'm pretty sure only uncle Stephen, Gerald, maybe my father, Bucket and Mulch would come to help. The rest? I'm not quite sure."

"Hey," Alek interjects, "maybe Stephen can round up some volunteers."

Everyone nods in agreement.

"Alright, here's the plan. I'll go with Demsey and Cami back to Berk and get some help while the rest of you get to the boat at the Venice beach. It's a day drive, depending if the cars at the highway aren't blocking the path," Alek informs. The rest nods as they run back out and hop into their vehicles.

 **HARPER'S POV**

My head throbs with pain and so did my body. It's hot in here, in their poor excuse of a dumb prison cell. I sat on the floor, my hands curling and uncurling as another wave of pain washes through me. It's been like this for hours.

Of course, my best friend — who's now my _ex-best friend_ — betrays me, siding with Drago himself. I try to see where I'm specifically at, but all I can think of is the fact that I'm here, back in Wilderbeast. As aforemention, their prison cell is a dumb excuse. It's small, too much heat compressed in one space, and there's barely any light.

It was understandable considering Drago is a cruel bastard.

I should have seen it coming. I should have seen _him_ coming. I should've stopped them a long time ago. I fucking trusted Thuggory. _Drago's a good guy! He wouldn't do that, wouldn't blow up Times Square and let the Freaks infect the city_. No!

I'm an idiot. I'm a fucking idiot and it's official. But, I guess, what's done is done. I'm sure that, by now, the gang are already at the wing getting all the help they can. There's only one thing I worried of, this gut feeling in me, that Alek would drag my father along this mess by seeking help from him.

I heard a voice echo through the corridors. I lean closely, listening.

"Yeah, that's him. Oh, man, that's Harper. Yeah! The guy who shot Drago's arm off."

Well, I'm a bluff turned to fact. _Aaah,_ why was I so stubborn? Yeah, no Harper, kill Drago, you're the best shot in the archipelago. You won't miss him, even a millimeter…

I clutched my head in pain. _Too much thinking._

The door suddenly opens and I hiss as the light struck my eyes. It's only been hours since I've last saw light but due to the impact I've received from Timothy's gun, they've become sensitive to anything remotely bright. I place my hands above my eyes, only for them to be roughly peeled off and dragged into Drago's office.

A pair of twin pine doors came into view, a golden knob on each side with some runes going down them. My eyes inspected the same words engraved in them, the same words I've been trying to read, to understand. To see if it were in Norse. Similar to last time, it still didn't make sense.

The doors opened and I was dropped in front of his desk. I rub my eyes, adjusting to the light. I was then grabbed by the arms again and forced to stand up. Drago, making it as theatrical as possible, sipped at his whiskey glass, savoring every drop as he stares out the window.

The guards shifted awkwardly, staring at him in fear.

Slowly, he turns around and approaches us. The guards shuffle again a little so that I was moved forward. Then, he jabs my jaw, giving it a good hit. Blood poured out the side of my mouth and trickled down my chin.

Drago roughly grabs me by the face, forcing me to look at him. As cliché as it was, I spat on his face.

He closes his eyes and I watch his hands move up to wipe off the blood infused saliva. He delivers another jab, this time to my ribcage.

I fell on the floor, looking up to him as I wheezed and tried to catch for air. Looking up, I saw Drago look down at me, a menacing grin on his face as he does so.

"Well, Harper. I can see you are persistent. You could have sided by me, as my second in command once more. You're too useful to rot, boy, and I can tell you're not stupid enough to reject this second chance," Drago says, extending his hand out to me.

I didn't reach out, just simply stare at it. My eyes falling over the lines that overlapped on his palm as my voice grew lower, just above a whisper, murmuring broken sentences, as if I were summoning a demon from hell.

"What are you saying?" he growls.

He inches closer, but not close enough for my liking. So, I continue. I whisper even more, the pace much faster now as I repeat the same things. Until, finally, he got down on his knee and lowered himself, close enough to my mouth.

Closer.

 _Closer._

I tackle him, my mouth landing on his neck as I dug my teeth into the soft flesh, drawing blood.

He cries in pain and kicks me off, his hand flying to feel his bleeding neck. He wipes off the blood as I stare at him, my face breaking out into a grin, showing no care as his blood mingled with mine in my mouth and onto my chin. He yells for the guards to take me back to my cell.

The guards shuffled forward, eyes wide as they stare at the blood on my chin, then at the nasty bite I just gave Drago.

"Now!" he yells when they still didn't make a move.

The guards let out varieties of squeaks and yelps before taking me to my cell. I was carelessly thrown back inside. My head still throbbed with the same amount of pain from a while ago, and I can feel it increasing. Adrenaline buzzed in me as I lay there, wiping the blood off my mouth down to my chin.

I let out a sigh, praying for Alek and the rest to come sooner because chances are I might be Drago's next toy, tortured for the sake of his enjoyment. As most of his men end up being as if they so much as to disobey him.


	25. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR** : **A TRIP TO NEW YORK**

"You sure Stephen is coming to help us? Harper told me a lot about him…and a good portion of it wasn't good. Seemed as if Stephen hated him. I-I think you know by now," Demsey starts.

They were less than ten minutes away from Berk and still haven't made up any sort of prepared script to inform Stephen of the unfortunate events that just came up. Demsey was the most nervous out of them all while Alek was calm. She knew she didn't have to say much since Harper's father may already understand it. Even with simple words.

She wasn't quite sure herself why Demsey and Cami were panicking but she stayed quiet throughout their exchange of words, enjoying their bickering over the wheels crunching on the gravel.

"...hey! I don't see you helping Alek!" Cami shoots back to Demsey.

Alek suppresses an amused smile. "Calm down, the both of you. I'm sure Stephen would come along."

"What about the things Harper told me?" Demsey asks, looking at Harper through the rearview mirror.

Alek sighs. "Harper didn't know, alright? Remember, he always thought he was a mistake. I'm pretty sure by now I got it through that stubborn, thick skull of his that he's not."

"Hey, we're here," Cami interrupts the two of them. They break the stare at Demsey drives forward.

Cami opens the window, and the gates open, letting them in. They drove and stopped in front of Stephen. His face was neutral as he scans the three of them, but worry washes over it when Harper is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the rest? Where's Harper?" he asks, his tone forceful as he stares down at Alek, then at Cami.

Alek steps forward, ushering both Demsey and Cami to keep quiet. They let Alek break the news.

"Well?!" Stephen interrogates, his tone much harsher now as every bit of patience he has left started to deplete.

"Your son got taken, Stephen. He's back at New York. We need your hell and some of Berk's armed forces. We need to siege a community that's holding him captive," Alek explains.

Stephen's features soften upon hearing this. He processes the words, then, looks back at Gerald and Seth.

"Get as many volunteers as you can, Seth. Gobber, get to the armory and bring as much guns and ammunition the bags can carry," he orders, not hesitating even one bit.

"Aye, chief!" they both say before doing what they've been told to do.

"And how are we supposed to get to New York, might I ask? Most of the bridges have been demolished," Stephen says, now facing the three of them.

"We already got that covered. However, we may only need at least, let's say, _six_ to _seven_ men," Demsey explains.

"Well, Stoick, here's all tha' lads that volunteered," Gerald says as he hobbles around with duffle bags inserted underneath both armpits while he clutches on in between his hands.

Behind him were five men. Seth, Bucket, Mulch, Anthony and Steven.

"Will this be enough?" Stephen asks, gesturing to the five men.

Demsey eyes them, closes his eyes, and counts silently. He then opens them and a small smile tugs at his lips.

"Yeah, I think this will be enough. But, remember, you listen to me. I have experience in New York," Demsey tells them, his gaze landing on Gerald, "I can tell some of you guys are experienced."

"Once we enter there, you'll have to be vigilant. Half of the city is infected. You don't have to worry, it kind of depends though if my contact from there is alive or not," Demsey continues.

All five of the men nod, walking inside their service tents to continue packing. Cami steps forward and asks Stephen a question.

"Wait, sir, what about your wife?"

Stephen stops in his tracks. _His wife._ He cranes his neck and stares at Cami for a moment, palming his face, disappointed at himself, as he runs to a Humvee parked near a tent and drives off.

Alek leaves Demsey and Cami behind as she enters a tent, searching for her father. She catches him wearing a tactical vest, loading cartridges inside a magazine. Walking slowly to him, she stops just a few steps away from him. Anthony, who was busy fixing his rifle, senses something and stops. He turns around and comes face to face with a very worried Alek.

He drops his magazine and pulls her into a hug. "Don't worry, my little warrior. We'll get him back. Remember, he's been there before."

"Yes, I know but...I'm scared of how long he'll last if we don't get there any sooner," she whispers.

Anthony sighs, places his arm around her and pulls her close so they stood there, half-standing half-sitting, side by side, staring at the floor.

"Even before, I already saw Harper having his father's characteristics. Brave, intelligent, stubborn — yes, in a good way. He's fit to be a leader, definitely a fighter, and I'm sure, as a lover," he informs softly, with a sweet smile.

Alek nods, places her head shortly on his shoulder before standing up and leaving. Anthony's hands found their way on her shoulder, making her stop in her tracks. She cranes her neck a bit, an inquiring brow up to question what her father has to say.

"Your uncle Finn would be proud. Remember that," he says, removing his hand.

Alek smiles and nods, and under her breath, says, "He would."

As Alek heads out of the tent, she's met with a happy Stephen. A smile was plastered all over his face as his hand was curled into a fist. Upon closer inspection, Alek sees a chain dangling between the fingers. He waves at him as he enters the tent.

To her left, she sees her two companions kissing. _Making out_. And by the looks of it, of how sloppy it was and how awkwardly positioned their bodies were, especially the arms, she can confirm that it's definitely their first time.

Clearing her throat, she watches the two break apart and a blush creep up their cheeks.

"It's, um, _nothing_! Really!" Cami blurts out, her hands waving in front as Demsey nods frantically as well, agreeing with Cami.

Alek places her hands on her hips, looking at the two of them. "Yeah, I'm _sure_ the two of you just didn't make out at the front gate with a bunch of spectators watching," and she motions towards the guards who looks at them both with a small smile, unbothered.

Demsey groans as he bangs his head against the top of his truck while Cami glares at Alek. Alek simply winks back.

"Hey, don't worry about it. You'll feel the same way we do. Only thing is we're not embarrassed about it," Alek reassures, only to laugh as the two of stare at each other sheepishly.

Demsey steals a quick glance at Cami but Cami is quick to catch is. He's tempted to give in and kiss her again, and so was she, but their desires were interrupted by the line of adults walking out of the tent.

Demsey got up immediately, "Follow us," he says, "we'll be eat Venice Beach by sundown."

He throws his keys towards Cami before climbing up the turret. They drove off, with the army truck not far behind.

—

"Well, are you going to give in, boy? That attitude of yours will be the end of you!" a dragon sneers at Harper before delivering another blow to the dangling man.

He coughs, looking around. He's been trying his best to stay conscious now but he feels like he's gonna pass out soon.

"Fuck," he pauses to let out a violent cough, "you."

The men laugh before giving him another beating. Blood spilled all over his body, leaving bruises within it's wake. If it was even possible, his body ached more than ever. His bones thrummed in pain as it took each blow given to it.

"Drago never stopped bragging about your loyal ass! Now, look at you. A pathetic little shit you are," another one of the men degrades, his fist meeting Harper's cheek.

A violent cough wracked through Harper at this. He forces his eyes open, but it's starting to get harder with the amount of times their fists have met his skin. He jumps a bit when he feels the same jolt of pain he does when they use the car battery. He looks down and confirms his suspicions that it's definitely the same car battery.

Seven hours. He's been tortured for seven hours straight and even _he_ himself is impressed that he's not dead yet.

It's not _too_ surprising since the men here loved _long_ hours of torture and have probably mastered it.

The men shuffled around him, ready to reapply the metal on the same patch of burnt skin only to stop when the door slams open.

Drago stood at the doorframe, with Timothy and Damien standing beside him. Harper's chest heaved as he stares at the two people who used to close to him. Up until they chose Drago's side.

They didn't look directly at Harper, not even bothered to cast a glance his way but guilt radiated off of them and Harper didn't know if it was him being tired, or hallucinating, but somehow he felt it. He felt the guilt.

Drago approaches him with a sadistic smile. He chuckles as he bends down to stare at Harper. "This can stop anytime, Harper. But, tell me, do you swear elegance to me? As I said, boy, you're useful. This," he points to his metal arm, "this is just water under the bridge! Come back, boy. We're all waiting for the Night Fury's return."

Harper tries to look at him, tries to glare but the bruises that littered all over his face prevented him from doing so. He casts a glance at Drago, a very small smile playing on his lips.

"Shove," he pauses to cough, "that," he lets out two sets of cough, "metal arm up your sorry," now, he's violently coughing, "ass!" he spat.

All of what Harper's just said wiped off the smile on Drago's face.

"You had to be stubborn, boy," Drago says, "bring him to the table," he orders. Harper winces as he feels the chains lightly dance on his bruise. For a moment, he was carried and then the next, he was violently slammed down onto cold, hard marble.

He's then carried up again, this time placed back onto something neutral. Wood. Harper groans as he adjusts his eyesight. Everything was blurry and even if he didn't make an effort to do anything at all, his body would still hurt. What's there to lose?

He thrashed, with all he has, only to be slammed back and binded down with ropes. Drago came into his line of sight, a bonesaw in his grasp. His fingers lightly threaded the sharp side, a menacing smile on his face.

"You took my arm, boy. How about I take your leg!" Drago exclaims.

Harper struggled against the ropes, struggled against the heaps of arms and hands that held him down but it was of no use. He was too weak.

The cool metal lightly threaded the skin of his left leg. Slowly, it dug in the flesh and as blood spilled out, so did a scream out of Harper's mouth.

––

"So, let me get this straight, you were apart of the Cold War?" Frank asks Dmitri.

Dmitri huffs another smoke cloud before speaking. "Yes, I was guard for Soviet Union during occupation of Berlin. I was only twenty during that time I was posted," he answers.

"Hey, they're here!" Heather announces, pointing towards a vehicle showing up ahead.

The twins stopped playing rock paper scissors as Eret walks to the pier. Sam just whistles while facing the other way around.

Alek had a sly grin on her face as she makes her way towards Heather. Heather looks at her questioningly, silently wondering what's the cause of that grin. She follows Alek's gaze that lead to the couple that stood up front, faces beet red after having just kissed one another. A quick peck.

At first, Heather didn't seem to understand then slowly, piece by piece, she figured the puzzle out. The two stood next to each other, far closer than any normal people would and they seem to share adoring glances to each other from time to time.

The men they've rounded up came forward, with Stephen leading them. He extends a hand out to Dmitri.

"Stephen Haddock," he says as Dmitri shook his hand.

"Dmitri Isacovich," Dmitri says, "you must be Harper's father?"

"Indeed. Yes, I am," Stephen confirms.

They all got inside Dmitri's boat. It was a fairly large fishing boat that fitted all of them inside. They were now on their way to New York.

In the captain's cabin, Demsey was busying himself by memorizing the map of New York, visualizing each crevice and pathway he still remembers of in order to infiltrate Drago's compound.

He was so focused that he didn't even notice Cami come in. Everyone in the boat were already passed out, that or either drinking some vodka with Dmitri so it surprised him a bit to see Cami awake.

At the moment, he was the one driving the ship as well.

"Hey," Cami greets him.

Demsey casts a quick glance her way, smiling. He then looks back at the map, marking a street down and mutters something about that street being shut down.

"How long have you known Harper?" Cami asks when she finds the right time.

Demsey smiles. "You wouldn't believe me. For four years, I've known him. During the start of this, I instantly went to arms dealing. I held an auction back in the day, and Drago was there. Instead of getting Viktor to negotiate, he got Harper instead and boy, was he good at it. He got a bargain out of me! I couldn't resist his offer."

"You know, Alek is worried for him, right?" Cami says, "she wants to know if he's ever been tortured before."

He sighs. "Yeah, guy's a hard nut. He's, well — he's stubborn, that's one. He told me that he's been tortured four times, so far. But I can tell Drago will do something much worse, especially after getting his arm shot off."

"Wait, he shot his arm off? How?" Cami asks, her face turning into one of excitement as she waits for an answer.

He chuckles. "I kinda gave him the right rifle. It was a bit of an overkill to be honest, but I guess we both just wanted to make sure. I'm just worried for the others in that colony."

"Colony?"

"Yeah, Wilderbeast is huge. I mean, like, two to three blocks of street. Sure, they're bastards but there's also innocent bystanders. I just don't know how to get them out," Demsey says, frowning.

Cami sighs and places her arms around him. "I'm sure you, Alek, and Harper will figure a way out."

"And what about your mayor?"

"Sure," Cami acknowledges, her nose turning up as she laughs shortly, "but Alek has experience now, thanks to Harper. And, I'm pretty sure you'll do the same thing with me."

"And what do I get in return?" he asks, slyly, as he traces circles on Cami's arm.

Cami's demeanor changed, one that radiated innocence. "Depends, maybe a bit of this and a bit of that, but in the meantime, how about thievery?"

She smiles as she pulls up Demsey's watch.

"Hey!"

"Told you. You'll learn a bit or two," she says before leaving Demsey with his watch.


	26. Important AN

**Hey everyone...**

I'm honestly sorry for not updating this story from the bottom of my heart and my soul... It's been a long while... Life hasn't been to keen with me.

I've honestly been struggling in academics and I needed to catch up with my grades. My mental health has been deteriorating for a while now. I couldn't think of any ideas for this story.

And right now I'm still heartbroken after my break up with my ex who was also my beta... I couldn't exactly look at this story without you know heartache... I loved them so much and It's so hard to let go no matter how much anger I put on them, my heart just betrays me. It's just too many memories and it honestly fucking hurts.

It's just a complicated mess, no one was at fault honestly. We were both to blame but the feeling is just a reminder of my past self and those tend to haunt me every single day...

Life has been depressing. Music isn't helping me anymore and all I write to further improve myself, it's mostly sad stories that lead to happy endings, something I wished I had...

I can't honestly thank you all for well sticking with me, with my stories, with The Mercenary for Hire. I didn't expect people to like my work. I've just been self conscious with my writing my whole life and to well know some of you out there in the world like my story is just unbelievable. Though it's a couple of people, regardless I'm just overwhelmed. Both the first version and the rewritten version...

Thank you all honestly for following and loving this story in general.

I can't make any promises but I will finish this story, I will! Once I get back on my feet.

I honestly just need time to heal and worst case scenario is I have tutorials for my college entrances exams next week for a whole month and God I'm going to literally fall of the earth...

Again thank you guys so much, this is a short author's note. Again thank you so much...

-Sefinu


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